


Bless YouTube

by gxee



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Youtubers, Attempt of Comedy, Both of them are Vlogers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Peter is a Not Quite Well Known Youtuber, Peter is a Singer, Peter is mostly confused, Social Media, Some serious topics to be adressed from time to time, Wade Fangirls a Lot, Wade Is Awesome, Wade is a Gamer, Wade is a Super Well Known Youtuber
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:33:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8332981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gxee/pseuds/gxee
Summary: YouTube is a Magical place. Along with the thousands of cat videos, epic fails bloopers, and badass music videos that MTV won't play anymore; some people can finally find their place in the world.Wade considered it a miracle, the fact that people actually wanted to hear what he had to say - even if most of it revolved around video games.For Peter it was a way to put himself out in the open and a chance to get discovered  as an artist once and for all. He wasn't sure when the Vlogs had started, but he wasn't quitting that anytime soon.-A lot can happen in a year.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The world needs way more Youtubers AUs  
>   
> Attempting to bring [this](http://happy-little-ghost.tumblr.com/post/151805922654/endless-list-of-stories-i-wanna-write-bless) to life once and for all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected Shoutout

It happened within a day, and it was both awesome and shocking.

You’ll see, after a little over two years and a half of taking the (questionable) decision of making videos of himself, and purposefully putting them out in the open for everyone to see twice a week, Peter was fairly used to his follower counter growing slow but steady by dozens from one week to the other. Sure, it was more often than not on his vlog channel where he basically rambled on and on about the topic of the day making witty comments and jokes; over the one he actually wanted to get noticed, where he uploaded his song covers, but this was something he had only fantasized over ever happening.

Over six hundred subscribers had suddenly popped up on both channels alongside with thousands of views and likes on his most recent videos overnight, it seemed like some sort of miracle.

The kind of miracle that of course, it could only ever happen in youtube.

The second he saw it, his first reaction had been to choke on his morning coffee and proceed to spit it out, surprise and utter shock freezing him on the spot in front of his computer, a heartwarming feeling washing over him moments later when the realization hit him that that had been the moment he had been waiting for, the breakthrough he had been working so hard for, song after song and recording after recording on his little apartment in Manhattan; or at least the beginning of something likewise, the first step closer towards becoming everything he had always wanted to be: a musician, an artist.

But he was quick to figure out, not even an hour into his blissful pride induced state, that his sudden virality it hadn’t been caused by one tremendous lucky strike, or by his talent -which most certainly did not bother him the slightest, no sir,- when, after deciding to check out the reviews he had gotten in his videos, he spotted the comment that had received the major amount of likes in his most viewed one; a cover of a song by The Black Keys.

_“Like if deadpool got you here lol”_

Still staring puzzledly at his computer screen after another hour checking out the rest of his videos and noticing similar comments, he grabbed his phone to take the incoming call he was receiving when it started ringing, not even bothering to check the ID as he suspected who the caller was.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming and you actually managed to pull off a Carly Rae Jepsen and become an overnight internet sensation,” the voice greeted from the other side.

“Hey Miles,” he said distractedly, pausing the video and typing in the strange username from the comment, “No, we’re both awake but uh, this is weird, I don’t think this was all because the magic of youtube recomendations…”

Miles was much younger than him, something strange considering that eventhough he was great with kids, Peter had always been more keen to get along with people that was older than him. However, the teenager was the exception, their relationship akin to be more like a little-and-big-brother kind since Peter had looked after his once neighbor for years every time his mother Rio worked night shift and couldn’t afford paying a baby sitter.

Even after Peter graduated and moved out of his aunt’s home, they still kept in touch, and Miles would swear forever that he had been Peter’s first and biggest fan, never hesitating to spam his whole family on Facebook and all his twitter followers with links to his videos.

“Duh, of course not Peter!” The boy answered through the phone sounding amused, “What? You didn’t know? You got a shout out from DeadPool,”

“I had figured since that’s all the comments talk about,” Peter remarked sounding bothered, “What- Who is even this guy?” He added, hoping that in his youth and concecuental awareness of everthing that was ‘cool’, Miles could be somewhat helpful to understand what had even caused his sudden popularity.

“Dude,” came the serious reply from Miles, followed by a stunned silence.

“What? What is it?”

“You seriously don’t know who DeadPool is?” Miles asked after a moment, sounding incredulous, which only encouraged Peter’s curiosity and annoyance, “Really? Wade Wilson? The youtuber? ‘My initials are WWW I was bound to be Internet Famous™’? Doesn’t ring a bell?”

  
Peter stayed really quiet for a moment as he tried to process the words Miles had just spat out at full speed in his ear before saying cautiously: “Uh, no?”

“He was in the VMAs last year!” Miles yelled hysterically on the other end of the line, his voice piercing through Peter’s eardrums. “How do you not know who he is? He’s been around for like four- almost five years!”

“I just don’t know him Miles! The world is full of unknown internet celebrities,” he argued.

“Oh god, shut up Peter,” the other boy sighed sounding tired and annoyed. “Just, look him up and check his videos, stop being a caveman,” he added, hanging up before Peter could say anything in return.

Looking back at his computer screen, he found himself looking at the various top results, a bunch of videos titled bizarrely and with highly edited pictures as covers; and a channel that had some sort of… angry emoji? As a profile pic.

Peter almost had a heart attack when he noticed the number of subscribers the account had under the cheeky bio ( _“Hey I’m Wade and I make videos for a living :D”_ ).

Whoever this guy was, he had over 30 million viewers. No reason why Miles had yelled at him.

“Well,” he murmured clicking the first video on display, “here goes nothing,”

* * *

 

One video ended up turning into about twenty seven.

The first thing Peter noticed was that the guy was wearing a long sleeved shirt, the kind that had holes to put your thumbs in so that they won’t ride up if you put a sweater on, on the first video he watched.

Which was odd because when he checked the date of the update it was from merely a day ago, and it was _mid August_.

The second thing he noticed was that the guy was big; and Peter had never been one to dwell on stereotypes, but it was weird noticing how buff this particular youtuber was considering that his was definitely not a fitness channel but a vlog one and most of the people he knew within the same kind of content seemed to share his physique: skinny or lean at best and a little awkward on their movements, whereas this guy was pure muscle and confident in his skin, almost graceful in his gesturing albeit he was being purposefully goofy.

The third thing he noticed was, that he looked cute. The guy, who introduced himself as Wade -just like his bio said- at the very beginning of each and every video along with a friendly greeting, had blue eyes and long, shaggy blond hair that really needed a haircut in most of his videos, whereas in some others it was shorter and even messier. An easy smile curved his lips as he talked except when his face contorted in some weird expression, and a scar cut his left eyebrow, growing deeper each time he cocked it sassily.

It wasn’t the only marking on his face, but it was the most obvious one. Another one, lighter and barely noticeable because of how it interrupted the subtle stubble on the lower side of his face, cut from his lower lip on the right side to the edge of his chiseled jaw. Finally, and looking closely, he noticed how his skin turned a lighter shade and acquired a slightly rugged texture on the base of his neck towards his right shoulder, disappearing under the fabric of his shirt.

Still, none of the scars made him look any less charming, and if anything -Peter thought- they added character to his already hard features.

But certainly the deal breaker for Peter, and the main reason why he ended up getting hooked up right away after the first one, was the way Wade talked. Sure, his voice was nice, a deep baritone that switched to a childish squealing tone or a giddy and sarcastic monologue through the video for dramatic effect, but that was not quite it all for him. The guy on the videos spoke with so much eloquence, yet never once missing the chance to make a joke that Peter found himself listening attentively, and laughing loudly more than once. He managed to make a point and make the watcher laugh at the same time without even trying.

He was genuinely _funny_ , and _interesting_. And that was saying something considering the title of some of the videos suggested it was not the first time he talked about the topic.

Well, one of them was called “I’LL FIGHT THE SUN (Loving and Mostly Hating Summer)- _Pt 5_ ”, so yeah, Peter was surprised to say the least that the guy hadn’t ran out of ideas yet -especially after watching parts 3 and 4.

The last thing he noticed was how Wade had decided to end the latest video he had updated. And that was only because he had had to see it again, after he realized he had skipped it the first time.

After saying goodbye a dark red background with a little video playing on mute showed up, along with a link to said video, as his cover of “Howlin' for You” played as soundtrack for a couple of seconds; plus some funny comments from seemingly the last video blinked under a title: “ _Best Comments_ ”. That was relatively normal, most of his own videos, and those of other vlogers he followed ended pretty much the same way, except that on his the background was blue and it showed a small message telling people to check his other videos, obviously linked to his other account.

What was different about this video in particular, was the way that after a moment, it turned from that farewell screen back to a tape of Wade standing in his room in front of the camera with the exact same clothes as before, talking to the viewer.

“Oh, one more thing before you guys go,” he said gesturing as if he was actually talking to someone walking away from him. “A bunch of you have been asking me about the songs I’ve been putting at the end of my videos lately. They’re all covers from this guy,” Peter watched as the guy motioned upwards, just as the profile picture of his own cover’s channel, along with his name popped up, framed by a link, on screen. “He also makes Video Blogs and you should totally check him out. He’s funny, he’s got an awesome voice, and his name is also an alliteration!” The blond counted on his fingers as yet another image and link popped up on the other side of the screen, this time the one on his “personal” channel along with the name of it. “He’s like, a younger, american, actually talented version of me. What is there not to love?

“So, yeah, shout out to Peter from ‘amazingspiderman’ for being amazing. Go check him out!” The blond grinned widely before the video finally stopped and a countdown began, hinting about the next video on the automatic youtube playlist.

So that had been how it started.

Funny, how he seemed to be the last person to find out. And while the part about being anything like some sort of ‘version’ or Wade was… debatable, the shoutout had been nice, not to mention he couldn’t deny that it was something huge. It was the single reason why he had been getting followers through the last couple of hours, and he was certain that if he got any more in the next few days it would be solely because of it too.

He decided immediately he had to do something about it, to at least acknowledge what had happened. Maybe tweet about it, or adding something to his snapchat story, maybe even taking a screenshot of it and post it on his instagram and his blog.

Hell, he decided he was going to all of that, right there and then. If there was one thing his aunt May had taught him was to always be thankful for the things that came his way.

He was sure as hell going to do it, but... maybe after watching another video.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! This is my first attempt at writting these dorks, and hopefully it will turn out okay.  
>   
> I promise I'll try to keep the updates as frequent as possible on this one. The chapters won't be very long so I'll try to make the story as fluid as possible.  
>   
> Some "Videos" will be narrated on the story as well, and I'm planning on doing some _Q &A _Chapters every two or three updates, so feel free to leave _actual questions_ for the characters to answer soon and getting to know them better!  
>   
>  You can always look me up on [tumblr](http://happy-little-ghost.tumblr.com) :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friendly Phone Call

The vlog started with Peter standing in front of the camera holding a reeky green mug of coffee and sipping mindlessly from it. A split second later, his irises focused on the lense, sleepy eyes shooting wide open as his thick eyebrows rose, his face contorting in sudden shock for a moment before lowering the mug and spluttering out the contents inside his mouth suddenly and loudly, turning away from the camera to keep it from getting soaked.

Wade snorted at the silly tape as the image from the video switched to the familiar musical introduction of the vlogs, a series of short black and white videos of the same boy mock playing a guitar first, dancing awkwardly in his room second, and taking a picture of himself with a fancy camera forgetting to turn the flash off, resulting on him turning groggy and ‘fainting’ last; bold black letters flashing on the screen through the intro stating the name of the channel and the topic of the video, this one in particular, was about “Social Media”.

Instead of the traditional “Hey guys, It’s Peter again,” that characterized the beginning of his videos, the boy on the other side of the screen started his monologue with the phrase “WHAT THE HECK!?” Standing in the same position as the tape from before the intro.

Quickly the image on the screen changed again, showing a screenshot of the homepage of his channel zooming into the follower counter that showed an even number above 2000, the words the boy had said replayed in the background slowed down x200, sounding grimly and just the tiniest bit hilarious when it reached the peaking of his voice during the draw out of the word ‘heck’. A second later the screen swiped right back to the boy in his room, his eyes looking lost as he asked to no one in particular “How did this even happen?”

From his spot behind the screen, back in his home, Wade bit his lip not even trying to fight back a smile.

The image froze before swiping right once again, revealing the same boy in the same room, his hand moving as if he had caused the transition, but now wearing a clean tee and smiling at the camera. “Okay, I’m kidding, I know exactly how it happened. And you guys probably do too. But in fair share, that was my reaction when I saw it."

The brunet continued, “You might have seen it already, but for those who are just as surprised as I was, this is what happened,” there was a cut and a camera shift before Peter yelled as if he was in a TV show “RUN THE TAPE!”

Another cut and Wade found himself staring at a black and white footage countdown, right before he saw himself on screen, mouthing the same words from his last video where he recommended his followers to check out amazingspiderman’s channel through an old footage filter.

Wade let out a squeal -one that was very manly-, right before pausing the video, getting up from his bed and running through his apartment in a rush to find his phone, which rested on top of the kitchen counter, not without stumbling with every other furniture in his way and nearly tripping on on an old XBox controller in the process, of course.

He dialed the number he knew by heart after so many years and waited impatiently as it rang for the other person to pick it up.

“Wade, baby, whatever it is, it can wait,” came the soft and sleepy reply from the other end of the line after six exasperating rings.

“I’m on his video! Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t Weasel tell me?” Wade was ecstatic, talking over his friend-slash-ex-girlfriend-slash-voice-of-reason’s voice on the speaker. “I’m _right there_! He _saw it_. _He_ saw it, Nessa! Oh God, and it’s only been a few days since I posted it; I didn’t think he’d say anything about it, but it’s right there at the beginning,”

“Baby, what are you talking about?” Nessa replied huffing, not sounding any less tired, but apparently forgetting about getting any more sleep and giving into Wade’s conversation.

“Peter, duh,” the blond replied as if it was obvious, earning only a groan and a sigh from the other end.

“Darling, it’s four thirty- _fucking_ -two in the morning,” Vanessa said after a moment, sounding the tiniest bit annoyed in Wade’s ears. “I’m not awake enough for _this_ , whatever it is. You gotta give me some more details.”

“Really?” He asked, turning to check the time on his microwave’s clock. “Eh, it’s only half past one over here,” he mumbled, uncomfortably surprised by the fact that it didn’t show the same number his friend must have seen on her analog clock on her night table.

“ _Amazing_ ,” Vanessa’s voice sounded anything but amazed. In fact, she sounded pissed off, even if she was still talking to him, Wade noticed.

He bit his lip.“Sorry, I guess I’m still getting used to Vancouver and the fact that it’s a totally different time zone from New York,” he ran a hand through his hair nervously at the realization that maybe, just maybe, he should have listened to what Nessa had said the moment she picked up the phone. “Is it really that late? I-I’m calling you tomorrow, you need your beauty sleep after a-!”

“ _Wade_ ,” came her stern reply followed by a sigh that was no longer tired but disappointed, cutting him off and forcing him to go quiet. “I’m already up, it’s okay,” She said, her voice growing softer with each word; as the noise of her barefoot steps and the clinking of mugs being taken out of a cupboard filled the background. “ _Why_ did you have to move from Quebec again?” She asked playfully, reminiscing how a couple of weeks ago Wade would have still called her in the middle of the night, but would probably had thought about it twice given that they were on the same timezone.

Wade chuckled, still feeling a little guilty. “Eh… Because I’m an ass and I like annoying my friends while having a legit reason such as different timezones, maybe?”

“Well, I can’t say that _doesn’t_ sound like something you’d do,” she laughed lightly and promptly yawned before continuing. “Besides I’m too sleepy to remember right now.”

“I _can_ call you later, Nessa,” he insisted, leaning against the counter and eyeing his kitchen, thinking that as he still wasn’t tired just yet, he might as well started cleaning up since it was a mess, or cooking something and messing it up even worse. He wondered if he still had any of the ingredients he had bought to make tacos a week ago. He suspected he didn’t.

“Oh, shut up! The coffee machine is running already,” she added, as if to emphasize she wasn’t going back to bed anytime soon. A chair being dragged back sounded through the speaker, before Nessa talked again. “What were you saying before you decided to turn into the gentleman we both know you ain’t? Something about a video?”

“Right!” Wade exclaimed, trying not to sound as agog as he had merely a few minutes ago, and failing. That earned him a small chuckle from his friend. “So, you remember this kid I told you about? The one that made Vlogs too?”

“You tell me about new people on the internet all the time, honey,” the pet name rolled easy off Vanessa’s tongue, a familiar habit they had never grown out of even after they had broken up years ago. “You sound like my facebook notifications. You have to be a little more specific,”

Wade rolled his eyes at his friend’s amused tone. “You know, the brunet that was gonna make it far? The one I’ve been following for a while but never really talked to?”

“That sounds like a lot of people you know, Wade,”

Wade sighed, “The one with the cute butt,”

“Oh, yeah, that one I remember,” And Wade had to snort because it was _obvious_ that Vanessa would remember him because of that. “You were right, I checked him out like you said, he’s actually really funny,”

“Thank you,” Wade mumbled, and quickly adding, “What do you mean by ‘ _actually_ ’?"

“Well, baby, you make a lot of people laugh but your sense of humor can be a little weird for some,” Vanessa provided bluntly.

“Oh, come on! First Weasel and now you too?” Wade frowned, knowing fully well that even if she couldn’t see him she would be perfectly capable of picturing him by just listening to him.

“I’m just being honest!” She defended herself, her smile evident in her voice. “Look, it was honestly shocking to me that you’d like this guy. His humor is so _E_ to _PG-13_ , and you’re more of a crude _PG-18_ rated kind of guy,”

“Nessa, you forget you’re talking to the guy that screamed bloody murder when you told him you had never watched ‘ _The SpongeBob Squarepants Movie_ ’, which is _still_ comedy _gold_.” Wade grumbled to the memory of Nessa arguing that it had been plain simple ‘good’.

“Okay, maybe you’ve got a point,” he could clearly picture her rolling her eyes at that. “Anyway, what’s up with him?”

“I told you, I’m on his last video! Well, not _me_ , but like- he used a recording from my video, which means he saw it, Nessa. Fucking _Peter_ sweet cheeks _Parker_ knows I _exist_!” Wade said excitedly.

“I’m pretty sure _everyone_ with access to the Internet _knows_ you exist, babe,” Vanessa argued after snorting. “And what? Did you just find out now? That’s why you called?”

“Is there another reason I would call you this late on a Thursday night?” He asked sarcastically.

“I can think of some, but most would require a pricey plane ticket and me looking decent, which is a _no-go_ at this hour on _any_ day,” She replied confidently.

He bit back a smile. “And what about-”

Nessa cut him off in the second. “Phone sex sucks, you know it, and I know it. And sexting is no fun unless there’s pictures; which again, at _this_ time, _any_ day, is a _no-go_ ,”

“I think you look beautiful all the time,”

There was a pause from Vanessa. “That was so _cheesy_ , I almost thought you _meant_ it,” Wade barked a laugh at her response, even as she continued. “Anyway, back to what you were saying; yes, I know, I saw it. I texted you earlier to ask you if you had seen it but you never replied, dumbass. So did Weasel,”

“Really? Shit, sorry,” he apologized. “I just came back to this universe, I was just checking it out when I called you,”

“Don’t be, I figured you were either playing video games _or_ _sleeping_ because _you stayed up all night playing video games_ ,”

“Hey at least I’m making money out of it now!” Wade pointed out.

“And isn’t that great?” There was a sarcastic edge to Vanessa’s voice in her reply, and Wade couldn’t really blame her. Even when he didn’t get paid to try out new games before they came out, and even before he had started making gameplays, he had always had the habit of gluing himself in front of the TV, controller in hand and play non stop until he finished definately whatever game he had newly acquired; and he was mature enough (surprisingly) to reckon that most people couldn’t nor wanted to deal with someone like that. Someone who would pass a whole night of good sleep, maybe more; or skip a meal or two without hesitation in order to get done with a video game. “Just curious, how long has it been since you last ate? Or took a shower? Or did _anything_ else but stare at a screen of any kind?” She wondered knowingly.

“Well…” he mused, trying to think back to when it had actually been that he had ingested anything that wasn’t a snack. It had to had been lunch, because it was some sort of fancy, healthy salad he hadn’t really enjoyed, but he had remembered Nessa’s advice not to live out of pizza, although it seemed so much simpler. “Uh, maybe a day? A day and a half?” He tried, lowering his voice by the end of a sentence that sounded more like a question.

“Wade Winston Wilson, eat something now and promptly get your ass into the shower or _so help me God_ , I’m teleporting there and shoving food down your throat with a tube and showering you with the hosepipe from your kitchen sink,” his friend threatened from the other side of the line, and Wade for a moment wanted to laugh at how serious she sounded, but he knew better than that. If he knew anything about Vanessa was that if she could, she would have done that exactly. “You’re gonna die from starvation and lack of sleep one of these days,”

“Okay, okay, there is no need to get violent,” he let out a nervous giggle.

“And for God’s sake, turn off your computer and your cell phone before going to bed, we both know you won’t be sleeping otherwise,” she demanded.

“Okay but, _before_ you kick my ass,” Wade interrupted her before she could add something else, “You said you saw the video. Wait, let me rephrase that, YOU _SAW_ THE VIDEO!?” He yelled, sounding just as cheerfully as he did when she had picked up the phone.

Vanessa sighed once again, “Yes, babe, I did,” despite annoyed for Wade’s change of topic, she sounded happy. “Did you watch all of it?”

“Eh, not really, just around the first two minutes,” he explained, “I saw my face and literally ran to my phone to tell you,”

Vanessa laughed, “Watch all of it, you’re gonna like it,”

“What?” Wade’s tone turned serious, “That’s not all of it? What did he say? Nessa, you _have to_ tell me, I’m begging you here,”

“No spoilers, babe,” came the cheeky reply from his friend. “It’s all there. Finish watching it and do what I told you, will ya?”

Wade grumbled, but otherwise only said “ _Fine_ ,”

From the other side of the line came a yawn and the familiar ‘ding!’ from the coffee machine that announced her coffee was ready. “Go get some rest, honey. Okay?”

Wade nodded, even though he knew she couldn’t possibly see him. “You too. Sorry for waking you up, again,”

“It’s nothing I wouldn’t have expected from you already,” she argued. “Goodnight, Wade”

“More like “ _Good morning_ ” over there,” he said, hearing her laugh once again before hanging up.

Standing up from the counter, he stretched out and checked his phone, that he hadn’t even bothered to look at before calling, not to mention through the course of the previous day.

He had a shitload of unread messages, mainly from Nessa and Weasel; and a missed call from Nessa. A bunch of notifications from facebook, twitter and tumblr also popped up, but those were usual by now; new followers messaging him through DMs after he had followed back a bunch a couple of days ago. Rubbing his eyes, he decided he would read the whole lot of them the following day, suddenly feeling how worn out he truly was, and knowing that Vanessa, like usual, had been right.

Still thinking of her, and right after checking the time back on his microwave, he opened their text message conversation on his phone. Ignoring the impressive amount of seventeen messages she had sent him through the day, he typed something quickly and pressed sent.

From: Me  
To: Dollface  
2:27 AM  
I still thnk u look beautiful @ 5:27 am

A minute later came the reply.

From: Dollface  
To: Me  
2:29 AM  
Flattery will get you nowhere, Wilson

Attached to the message was a picture of Vanessa, a selfie she had probably just taken. Her long black hair was messy, falling carelessly over half of her face and right shoulder; eyelids hooded and she was sticking her tongue out mockingly. She didn’t have any makeup on, which was a rare sight.

“So much for ‘ _no pictures at this time, ever_ ’” he chuckled to himself before replying one last time, simply with one word.

From: Me  
To: Dollface  
3:01 AM  
Gorgeous

Wade saved the picture in his phone and made his way back to his bedroom, swearing to himself that he would do as Vanessa had told him. Check the whole video, grab a bite and shower. And sleeping. For the following two days, hopefully.

His social media could wait until after he came back from ‘ _death_ ’; he told himself as he sat on his bed once more, back pressed against the wall and clicking the video he had left paused back to life.

Ten minutes later, he had to force himself out of the need of calling Vanessa again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this instead of studying for an Exam. What has my life come up to?
> 
> No regrets though.
> 
> Thanks everyone for the comments and kudos and bookmarks!!! I promise I won't abandon this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Text messages and Twitter Interactions

From: Miles  
To: Me  
10:26 AM  
“If you don’t knoe who this guy is what are you even doing on youtube?” says the guy who didn’t even knew him two days before lolol

Peter rolled his eyes when he finally read the message an hour later, exiting the magazine’s building after delivering the photos he had been paid to take.

He had to make a living out of something else than his musical career, even if it was his main focus. Small gigs at bars and parties paid good, and he was definitely getting a little extra from his videos in the last week since he was getting more and more views, but his main source of income was still his work as a freelance photographer for some magazines and papers.

He wasn’t complaining, at least he was earning money out of something he loved doing as well instead of spending every day in a tiny office from nine to five, but it demanded just as much work and determination as any other job. Getting the right takes could take from a couple of hours to a full day of work when it came to covering events or photo shoots, not to mention that Peter was one of the few nostalgics who refused to let die the art of revealing his negatives himself.

The day before had been one of those exhausting days as he had been contracted to shoot all over some serious diplomatic event that had been taking place at the Baxter Building and right then, even if he had ran into Johnny Storm -his former roommate at college who happened to be currently dating one of the diplomat's daughter- at some point, meaning the whole night hadn’t been a total bore; all he longed for was getting home as soon as possible and either sleep or start working on the recording of one of his own songs.

The idea of slipping in some of his original works along with his covers had been going around his mind for a while, and after the sudden growth of his followers he presumed that would be the right time to make it happen and show he could be more than just an imitator.

Each song took about half a day to record, since he hardly ever used a track anymore after he decided to record as many instruments he could play himself for the song, and at least one day to edit all the sound together. It demanded dedication and drive to be done professionally, which was the only way he’d admitted it being since he did it all himself, and he was questioning if he had enough of either right then to actually do it.

Maybe some coffee would help.

Taking a detour from his way back to his apartment, he went inside the first coffee shop he could locate and stood in line to get his order taken from the barista. While waiting, he decided to reply to Mile’s message from earlier.

From: Me  
To: Miles  
11:47 AM  
In all fairness I admit I didn’t know what I was doing before

A thought crossed his mind and he furrowed his brow before typing some more.

From: Me  
To: Miles  
11:49 AM  
wait it’s monday shouldn’t you be in cLASS RIGHT NOW?

The line moved a couple of steps as he waited impatiently for the answer from his younger friend, never taking his eyes from the screen until a new message popped up.

From: Miles  
To: Me  
11:53 AM  
Chill out the teacher didn’t come and the sub is super cool

And then another one.

From: Miles  
To: Me  
11:55 AM  
Btw I’m sure you know but in case you didn’t, guy’s seen the video too

The line finally advanced some more, enough that Peter shoved his phone in his pocket before ordering an espresso to the barista with a smile, fighting the frown Mile’s text had caused him.

Within five minutes he was making his way out of the shop, coffee in one hand and his phone in the other as he typed back.

From: Me  
To: Miles  
12:03 PM  
What do you mean

He placed it back in the pocket of his jeans and decided to leave it there until he finally got home, not risking the possibility of getting it snatched from his hands on the streets, even as he felt it buzz twice almost immediately, and a third time just a moment later.

He hurried the tiniest bit, sipping his cup on the way and burning his tongue a couple of times in the process, convincing himself that it wasn't a big deal, even if something in his gut told him otherwise. Miles wasn’t freaking out like the other day, but he seemed excited as he replies so earnestly, which was unusual on him.

Peter got inside his apartment nearly twenty minutes later, his cup half empty and definitely colder. Dumping his bag on the counter, he pulled his phone out once again, barely glancing the notifications before unlocking it and reading them out loud, murmuring them in disbelief.

From: Miles  
To: Me  
12:05 PM  
I mean the guy saw it he even commented it on twitter

From: Miles  
To: Me  
12:05 PM  
Dude seriously twitter is going crazy over it didn’t you see it?

The last one was simply a shortened link. Next to it Miles had written “Check #happydance, caveman,”

Peter bit his lip anxiously for a second as he stared at the underlined text, knowing he should have clicked it already, and wondering why he hadn’t. He sighed as he hovered his thumb over it, mentally kicking himself for acknowledging that Miles was right and he was always the last one to find out about everything, even the things that concerned him.

Luckily he had Miles, not that he was ever going to admit it.

He clicked the link and it opened his Twitter app, redirecting him automatically to a particular tweet from an user whose profile pic was a familiar sort of angry black and red emoji.

 **Captain Deadpool** _@realdeadpool_  
TFW someone awesome like _@amazingspiderman_ acknowledges ur existence AND makes a cover of one of ur fav songs #happydance

Along said tweet there was a gif of Wade dancing alone, careless and relentlessly in his messy room with a silly hat and a pair of sunglasses, colorful strobe lights setting a party effect on the image that looped almost perfectly.

Peter snorted at the sight in his phone screen, noticing that the tweet had been posted at 6:07AM that very same day and that it already had over a million retweets and it had been favorited by thousands, wondering how was it that he hadn’t seen the mention pop in his notifications that morning.

A quick check confirmed his suspicions as he looked into Wade’s profile.

  
**Captain Deadpool**  
_@realdeadpool_       FOLLOWS YOU  
You mom thought I was that funny - I just really love Tacos and Videogames - One time I punched cancer in the face  
_Location: Vancouver - Canada_  
_Website: youtube.com/deadpool_  
_Birthday: 14th February 1989 _  
679 followed     8.967.783 followers__

  
He hadn’t been following him although the other was indeed following him.

Without thinking he soon clicked that white button that turned blue a second later, informing him that the user was now being followed by his account, and began scrolling down the profile, reading Wade’s retweets from other fans that had used his gif and the hashtag ‘happy dance’ in their own tweets, laughing at the originality of some.

 **The Buddhist Monk(ey)** _@nirvanabanana_  
tfw you finally reach nirvana after years of meditation #happydance

 **Anya** _@anya_latouse_  
TFW YOU FIND SOMEONE THAT LOVE YOU AND CARES ABOUT YOU AND SUPPORTS YOU #HAPPYDANCE

 **Much Games Very PS4** _@chairfucker69_  
Tfw you finally finish that sTUPID UNDERWATER LEVEL #happydance

 **Dementia Raven Way** _@ecogoth_  
Tfw u think u have $2 in your bank account but you realize u actually have $20 #happydance

 **Neon Socks** _@thefaultinourufos_  
tfw aliens abduct you and first ur scared but then u realize ur leaving thsi planet forever #happydance

 **Jinkies!!** _@scoobydubious_  
TFW you realize _@realdeadpool_ is as much as a fangirl as you are #happydance

He kept scrolling until the first tweet showed up in the feed, and taking a sip of his coffee, that had already gone completely cold and tasteless, he pressed the tiny heart underneath the tweet, followed by the retweet button, choosing to quote it and adding a small answer before posting it.

 **Peanut Butter Parker** _@amazingspiderman_  
Glad you liked it! :D “TFW someone awesome like _@amazingspiderman_ acknowledges ur existence AND makes a cover of one of ur fav songs #ha..."

It was a moment later that his phone beeped, announcing an incoming message from Miles.

From: Miles  
To: Me  
1:22 PM  
took u long enough

He was in the middle of typing a reply when another text arrived.

From: Miles  
To: Me  
1:24 PM  
The cover was a nice detail sounds awesome btw

Peter smiled and deleted what he had been writing previously, opting to answer truthfully.

From: Me  
To: Miles  
1:24 PM  
I always wanted to cover smth by Foo Fighters anyway

Checking the time on his phone, he realized that he had spent nearly an hour just scrolling down twitter, and feeling much less tired than before, he made the decision to get to work and start a new recording, maybe settling down the final details of the song he had been working on.

He locked his phone and tucked it inside his back pocket, a grin on his face as he walked towards the bedroom he used as a home-made studio and to keep his instruments instead of having them scattered around his apartment.

Sitting on the stool behind his red and white drums, he picked the drumsticks and began hammering down the instrument in an improvised rhythm at a rather quick pace, trying to figure out what would fit best the chords he had been practicing on his guitar the night before.

At some point he noticed that he was slipping back into something similar to another song’s rhythm, and he didn’t even fight the grin that split his face before turning his whole attention into performing said melody, as he remembered the short message he had left recorded in his last video, addressing the blond vlogger twitter had been going crazy about for the last six hours.

“You guys should really check out my music channel,” he had mentioned almost casually. Almost, because by then it was somewhat recurrent on his vlogs, “Wade mentioned he really liked Foo Fighters in one of his videos a couple of weeks ago, so I decided to make a cover of one of their songs,” he had added smiling cheerfully before the screen froze and his voice sounded ironically over the frozen image “Since I can’t do something cooler like getting a shout out from them,” and then the video continued, “Dude, if you’re watching this I really hope you like it, and thank you for the shout out. You’re awesome, seriously.” Another cut, “And the whole rest of you, guys, seriously if you don’t know who this guy is get the heck outta here and check his videos. Now!”

Muttering the lyrics under his breath, which he was currently running out of as he kept on hitting harder, he let himself be carried away in the spur of the moment. In the violent perfection of banging the drums with precision, forgetting for a minute the whole rest of the world existed outside those four walls, the way only music could make him even if his neighbors often complained that what he did was hardly anything but noise.

He didn’t notice the way his phone vibrated, or the way a new notification popped up in his lockscreen.

_**Captain Deadpool** liked your tweet._

He was too busy singing about clocks stopping and time not meaning a thing, and bombs dropping and silencing everything one of these days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there guys, here's the new chapter!
> 
> I wanted to thank you all for your lovely and helpful comments, guys you keep me alive tbh.
> 
> I just wanted to let you all know that eventhough I have this story pretty much planned out, if there is anything you'd like to see in it you should totally tell me about it, since it's still on its early stages and we could work something out :D
> 
> You can always find me on [tumblr](http://happy-little-ghost.tumblr.com), come talk to me! I promise I won't bite!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Video call through a stressfull waiting.

Vanessa Carlysle was one hell of a friend, and Wade Wilson knew that first handedly.

It was often that he wondered what kind of good deeds he had done in his previous lifetime to deserve her; such a wonderful, gorgeous, amazing woman putting up with his shit, let alone caring about him, in this one.

Right then, as he watched her sitting likely in front of a mirror in her room defining her contour with a precision and a technique worthy of a celebrity makeup artist through the screen of his phone, the quality of the image flaunting from time to time and freezing every five minutes or so during the video-call, it happened again; and a smile split his face when fondness took over his chest, a warmth blooming within him and reaching out to every nervous end of his body.

He would have loved having her at his own apartment to watch her do the exact same thing, just like he had years ago in the mornings before they headed out of the house because the world didn’t approve having them staying in forever; but he knew that wasn’t happening any time soon. Still he marveled in the fact that they were still so tight with each other, that she would keep him company and share the most mundane moments of her life with him while he was far away.

Though truth be told, there was nothing mundane about Nessa doing her makeup. It was watching a work of art come to life.

Nessa peeked from her reflection to her phone, resting horizontally against the mirror on her desk, when she realized Wade’s previous babbling had come to a sudden halt. He saw a small smirk pull on the right corner of her lips.

“What you staring at, honey?” She questioned cheerfully. “Like what you see?”

“Very much. I missed this,” he confessed, shifting in his seat and digging his other hand -the one that wasn’t holding the phone in front of him- further inside the pocket of his hoodie. “Just watching you do your make up,”

“Honey I literally have a youtube channel where that’s all I do,” she laughed and reached out to grab a set of fake eyelashes.

“I know,” he rolled his eyes. “But I mean, not like that. You make these super productions there, you literally turn into someone else. I mean, I missed watching you do your everyday thing,” he bit his lip for a moment before adding “Actually? I just miss you, period. But you know that already,”

Nessa’s smirk softened, turning somewhat melancholic as she looked towards the screen when she replied “I know, I miss you too, doofball,”

Wade chuckled and let out a sigh. A moment later, he forced himself to look away from his phone and focus on his surroundings, on the white cold tiles and the unnerving slightly flickering tube lights hanging over his and the three other people sitting in the row of blue cushioned chairs heads’ in that disturbingly quiet waiting room. He pulled out one of his earbuds and glanced towards the tired looking receptionist who was still sitting behind the desk reading a magazine, no evident signs that she had called out anyone’s name and he’d missed it.

He took a deep breath through his nose and instantly regretted it. The place smelled like disinfectant and bleach and old people, and just a hint of lavender febreeze that simply wasn’t enough to hide the natural odors that were to be expected inside the building.

God, he hated hospitals. But he guessed anyone who had spent almost two years inside one would too, even years later.

He couldn’t handle the anxiety that flooded him every time he had a doctor's appointment, Vanessa was a literal angel for agreeing to do this.

He put the earbud back in place and averted his attention back on her friend, who was looking determined as she dragged the tip of her black liner over her eyelid, drawing an impressively sharp line that curved right at the end just perfectly.

He let out a whistle, amused. “That was beautiful, Nessa,”

“Shut up now I gotta do the other one,” she mumbled. “Pray for me to get them even this time,”

“Eh, you’re gonna get it just fine, doll,” he teased. Because seriously, Vanessa was a pro at it. And he knew not only because he had been an actual witness of her transformations, but because anyone who ever saw her videos on her channel - _copycateye_ \- could tell. It was something truly impressive, the way she had transformed from a typical tutorial beauty vlogger to someone who could pick any person and through the magic of cosmetics, become said person.

Vanessa, however, only rolled her eyes, careful not to let her lids open up too wide and mess with the work of art she had struggled so hard to create.

Before she leaned forward again to proceed with the other eye, she spoke again, “How’s everything going on over there?”

“Well, they haven’t called my name yet, and I’m super okay with that,” he commented, half shrugging. “The thing is I still feel like running the fuck out of here in any moment,”

He heard Nessa’s laugh through his headphones the exact same moment as one of the people sitting in front of him, an old lady in ugly blue eyeshadow and wearing a cheap-looking black wig, turned around to dedicate him a disapproving glare at his cursing.

Wade maturely stuck his tongue out to her in response.

“It’s gonna be just fine, Wade,” Nessa assured him from the other end of the line. “It’s just a checking; _get-in, get-out_ like every other time,” A holler of happiness erupted from her throat just a second later as her eyeliner had turned perfectly even.

“I know, Nessa. But I can’t help it,” he shrugged as he watched her reach out for a tube of dark brown lipstick, and her eyes wandered back to his image. “It’s just how it is. I always get like this. What if everything seems okay but it’s not? What if the doctor says something is wrong? What if-what if I have fucking cancer _again_?”

“Wade. It’s gonna be _fine_ ,” she repeated, her voice acquiring that sweet, soft, reassuring tone that Wade hated to admit sometimes it was the one thing he missed most about her. The way she could comfort him so easily with her voice alone, the way it made him reminisce fingers running through his hair and down his back, tight hugs in the wee hours when he couldn’t sleep.

He let out a huff and sunk himself deeper into the seat, his knees bumping against the seats in front of him. “I don’t wanna think about it, I don’t wanna talk about it. Can- can we talk about something else?” He pleaded, looking away from his phone and pinning his stare on the stamp of his hoodie, it was a phrase he had come up with himself and that curled around the bold shadow of a pair of crossed hockey sticks; ‘ _Moose Wrestling is just like Hockey. Dangerous unless you’re a Pro or Canadian._ ’ He would have been almost lying horizontally, had it not been because he was so damn tall.

“Alright,” Nessa responded after a brief pause and Wade felt himself grow relaxed at that single word. She loosened her bun and allowed the lower half of her hair to fall easily over her shoulders as she reached out to the iron curler. “Did you get your Invitation to VidCon already?” She questioned nonchalantly to the blond.

Wade nodded, “About a week ago, it’s gonna be in Frisco this year,” he commented, “You’re going, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I almost didn’t,” she shrugged, keeping a lock of her hair pulled tightly around the device.

“What? Why?” Wade babbled, perhaps a little too loud, because again there was a glare from the old lady from before.

“Well, you know,” She said “This year they aren’t paying for transportation, and they said they are only helping with half the cost of the hotel room,”

Wade eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Are they?”

“Do you ever read your emails?” Wade opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, Nessa was cutting him off. “What am I saying? You never do,”

The blond let out a small, nervous laugh. “Thanks for the heads up then,”

Nessa simply rolled her eyes on screen, collecting a different strand of hair and proceeding to curl it. “Anyways, the point is, I didn’t know if I was gonna make it, but I figured out if I live out of ramen through this couple of weeks I can save enough to cover most of it,”

Wade stared at her with narrowed eyes for a while after she said that, and it was only when her eyes found his through the artificial glow of the phone that he talked again. “You know I’d cover it myself if you asked,”

Vanessa’s smile turned sharp for a second. “But I didn’t, babe,”

Wade dedicated her a look that clearly said ‘you have to be kidding me’ but besides that he didn’t push it. It would have been stupid from him to actually believe that Vanessa would actually do something like that. Still it wouldn’t have bothered if she did.

Either way, it was good news. It meant that he wouldn’t have to wait until he could manage to go to New York City to visit her and Weasel like he tried every two months or so to see her again, to hold her tight and mess with her hair like loved doing.

Only three more weeks and they’d be there.

“You know,” Vanessa spoke again as she let the rest of her her hair down to take care of it, her voice sounding diverted now and that caught Wade’s attention. “I heard from a good source they’re inviting that Parker guy this year too,”

Wade didn’t fight the smile that crept onto his lips. However, he did try not to sound excited as he answered “About damn time,”

“You’ll be meeting your celebrity crush,” Nessa wiggled her perfectly defined eyebrows at him, “Except you’re the one who’s more of a celebrity, are you excited?” She inquired smugly.

Wade snorted. “It’s not a crush, it’s more like… a very deep appreciation that I feel towards him,”

“Whatever you say, Mr. I-don’t-care-what-time-it-is-he-just-followed-me-back,”

“Oh, come on,” he argued. “I was still star-struck that morning after watching the video,”

“You lost your right to claim that when you went on fangirl mode and spent a whole evening texting me about you binge watching some vlogs and then about how good he looked in that one video where he was wearing a wife beater and you could see the tattoo on his shoulder and you kept going on about how the hell he managed to look _that_ good with tattoos when he looked so fucking nerdy all the time,” Vanessa deadpanned, staring at him right through the eyes, making him wonder how did she manage to do that when they weren’t really face to face.

“Okay, maybe it is a bit like a crush,” Wade sighed, “but it’s like you said, some sort of celebrity crush. It’s not happening, ever,” he shrugged it off quickly.

“Have you thought of at least talking to him?” She asked shaking her finished curls so that they would reminisce something more akin to natural waved.

“Hell, no,” Wade stated immediately.

“Why not? Don’t you follow each other on twitter? You could just dee-em him,” she supplied, resting her hands on her desk and turning her face to fully face her phone screen. “I’m not saying you go picking baby names with the guy, but you could try and reach out and make a friend,”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Nessa, what was your first impression of me when you met me?”

Nessa seemed to think about it for a couple of seconds. “That you were an asshole, albeit a hot one. And that you were on coke at the time,”

“It was almost Valentine’s Day, and candies and chocolates were on discount, I was having a sugar rush that night!” He said in his defense with mock annoyance that wasn’t as mocking as he had intended.

"Sure Wilson, blaime it on the sugar," she laughed rolling her eyes once again. "Speaking of candies and poor life desicions; what are you dressing up as this halloween?"

That seemed to distract Wade for a moment, as he threw his head back and thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know yet, maybe I’ll do something classic this year like Frankenstein’s monster or a skeleton,”

“Lame,” She commented, and Wade couldn’t help but agreeing. He hadn’t had much time to think or worry about his costume what with that doctor’s appointment being so close to that festivity he loved so much. And boy, did Nessa knew, Wade was the kind of people who started celebrating the moment pumpkin spice started to become a thing at coffee shops. It was not past him to start planning out his costume a whole month earlier. “What about Sandy from Grease?” His friend suggested.

Wade looked back at his phone. “Cute Sandy from the beginning of the movie or bad bitch Sandy from the end?”

“Ayy-dee-kay,” Nessa spelt, the smirk never faltering. “You think you can manage being a bad bitch, stud?”

Wade laughed at that. “Okay, Sandy it is then. But don’t change the topic again,” he warned.

Nessa on her end, merely sighed tiredly. “I know what you’re gonna say, honey,”

“Then I don’t know why you’re asking in the first place. You know I’m a pro at ruining first impressions,” Wade said anyway.

“Yeah, but then people get to know you and realize how cool you are,” she argued firmly. “Come on, dude, it's been months already,”

“I’m just gonna wait until he reaches out to me first,” he declared, shrugging once again.

“Real mature, Wilson,” was all Vanessa said in response. “You know I’d get you his number if you asked, right? He’s from New York, it has to be somewhere in the phone book,” she tried a few seconds later.

Wade snorted before replying “But I didn’t, doll,”

Nessa flipped the bird at him in response. Right then, he heard a familiar doorbell ring through his headphones, and Nessa moved swiftly from her spot to glance towards where, he supposed, was the main door of her apartment. He heard her yell “Who is it?” In that direction followed by an incomprehensible mumble in the background.

“Shit,” said Nessa. “I forgot some friends were coming over today, sorry,” she continued as she grabbed her phone and proceeded to walk with it through her apartment in search for some pants. Wade knew what it meant, they had to end the call; otherwise, she wouldn’t have even bothered to explain the situation.

“It’s okay,” he answered, even though he was feeling a knot in his chest once again. But he couldn’t find it in him to push Nessa for more after she had spent the whole morning in a video call with him from the moment he had stepped inside that building. “I’ll call you when I’m out,”

The last thing he saw was Vanessa’s smile freezing on his screen before the call disconnected.

He took out his earbuds and placed them inside a pocket in his jeans, and only then he noticed how uncomfortable was the position he had been maintaining, deciding to sit back properly in his seat, knowing fully well that wouldn’t last either, and a minute or two later he would find himself sprawled over the seats.

He stared at his phone, and after checking out once more that nor his or anyone else’s names had been called out, he began entering and scrolling through his social media to keep himself distracted from how nervous he was becoming once again.

It wasn’t long after that while looking through his twitter feed, he found a tweet by @amazingspiderman that caused him to freeze.

Not because of what the tweet said, it was basically a very poetic song lyric the boy had wanted to share with his followers; no, what froze him was to see the name of the account and the picture next to it and the way it just made Vanessa’s words much more present than what they had been a moment before.

Unconsciously, he supposed, he tapped on the profile picture, a black and white photograph of the vlogger by the coast of the lake in Central Park; and he was immediately redirected to his profile.

 

 **Peanut Butter Parker**  
_@amazingspiderman_ FOLLOWS YOU  
*is actually allergic to Peanuts - Be the change you want to see in the world - If I could clone myself I’d have a band already  
_Location: New York City - USA_  
_Website: youtube.com/amazingspiderman_  
_Birthday: 20th August 1994_  
864 followed 2.903 followers

 

He bit his lip as he reread the bio he knew by heart then, and he saw his thumb hover over the button that allowed him to sent a DM, and he allowed himself to fantasize for a moment that maybe he could start a conversation and keep it somewhat normal with the other guy, that maybe he’d like him right away and perhaps he’d think some day that it had been the best decision he would have made in a long time after they became actual friends.

But then again, Wade knew that being himself, that wasn’t likely going to happen. When he sent DMs to his followers it was often very silly conversation starters, and most people had a hard time keeping up with him conversationally since he seemed to have the attention spawn of a goldfish when he was talking to complete strangers.

The decision was made for him merely minutes later, as he heard the receptionist call his name loudly in a nasal voice.

Chills went down his spine as he thought _“Saved by the bell?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there guys! Sorry for the delay. This chapter was supposed to be up before Halloween but tests got in the way.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Don't forget you can always come talk to me on tumblr about literally anything :D
> 
> EDIT: Some of you might have noticed that I edited the first chapter, I decided to place it in August instead of June to make the pace of the story a bit slower, this chapter would be placed a few days before Halloween, meaning it had been a little over two months since Wade and Peter's shout outs. I thought it would make more sense than having Wade not talking to the guy for five months since this story is supposed to take place over the course of a year or so. I hope that makes sense!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important email

Not much had happened on Peter’s end in the following months after the shout out.

Well, maybe that was a lie. He was getting more gigs at slightly bigger and way more sanitary places than he had before now that people was noticing him, and it had definitely given him a stronger sense of drive and determination to his works; but the main difference he had noticed in his life was that he had been spending way more time focused on his phone than he used to.

And that was saying _something_ , considering he managed his whole life through that shiny device that held within it’s contents all of his contacts, emails, every job offer he ever got and every single network profile that connected him to the rest of the world.

What had changed? Well, for starters, after realizing the one guy he owed his career at the moment had been around for almost five years, he had committed himself to watch as many of his videos as possible, in lieu of making it up for not even knowing about him.

Or at least that was the reason Peter had forced himself to believe through the first weeks. At some point he gave up and admitted that the guy was truly just that funny that he wanted to see all of them just to truly laugh at the words that sprouted out of the blond’s mouth.

Not that he was ever going to say that out loud.

But besides that, things remained the same, particularly in one aspect. He hadn’t heard from the Vlogger reaching out to him in a long time. It was almost as if it had never happened, in a way.

Though on the other side, he was still getting notifications on twitter whenever the guy liked or retweeted something he had posted.

But it just seemed strange that the guy hadn’t even attempted to send him a direct message after he had followed him back. Though, Peter knew, he wasn’t really the best one to talk about ignoring each other, when he hadn’t sent a message either.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He did, it was just that, every single time he was seconds away from pressing that funny light blue button, something seemed to happen that wouldn’t allow it. His phone either crashed, or an incoming call popped up taking over the whole screen, usually either Miles or a Gig Contract; or he had to resume doing something else that was simply urgent and he promised himself he would do it later. And by the end of the day, after an exhausting succession of events that often involved his photography work and keeping in contact with his actual friends, that promise hovered above his head while he was too sleepy to process it, waking up the morning after realizing he hadn’t done it.

A thought occurred to him often enough to justify his actions, or his lack there of to actually, simply talk to him. And it was that if Wade hadn’t talked to him, it was maybe because he didn’t want to.

Sometimes things were just that simple.

He didn’t let it bother him, even if part of him would have really liked having the guy talk to him.

* * *

It was on a saturday that he got that email he hadn’t realized he wanted to get so bad.

It had been a surprisingly quiet day, and by four p.m. He had already accomplished all of the tasks he had set himself to and that he had been putting off for too long, from doing a deep clean up of his apartment (that turned out on him finding twenty bucks hidden under the sofa’s cushions, a full set of backup bass strings he thought he had lost a month prior and an endless amount of broken guitar picks), to polishing the final details of the bridge from a song he had been working on for a couple of weeks by then.

Halloween was merely two days away, but Peter had never been one to really worry about costumes. Most of his life he had been too broke to afford renting one, and his aunt and uncle had taught him about making things work with whatever came handy; so he had always had one, but he always came up with it within the last day, or hours, or _minutes_. He didn’t go trick or treating anymore, but he liked opening the door to the kids dressed up as well and see their reactions, since most of the adults in his building didn’t bother on doing anything festive.

Except for Esther from 7th B, that was some nice old lady, always hanging up decorations for every holiday.

It was still early, and he was bored out of his mind, so he decided to set up a Q&A on twitter -that actually consisted on requesting questions to answer later on video-, closed the app and opened youtube instead to distract himself for an hour or two and let the questions pile up to go through them later.

It really shouldn’t have surprised him that it happened while he was watching one of Wade’s videos, since lately those were the only ones he was watching. Well, beside those of another vlogger who made awesome recipes out of a nearly empty fridge and Pete kept swearing one day he was going to try one of those out. (He wasn’t.)

He was through his fourth one on his binge, one that was about a year or so old and that consisted on the blond one ranting about a specific set of stereotypes: the ones regarding canadians.

“The thing about these stereotypes is that, we don’t even know where they come from,” the guy explained from his spot in his room from the screen. It was a different room than the one in the last video, and that had been a different one from the one before it, but Peter had figured by the that that was something usual. Apparently, the guy liked to move, and every time he did he started this game where he made people guess his current location in one video and answering on the following one. The one thing that never changed, though, was a pair of old red, black and white hockey skates hanging around in some wall. “And I mean, seriously? Who came up with the whole thing about Canadians being all nice and harmless?

“I can tell for a fact I’m not _nice_ ,” the blond one continued, “And I am definitely not harmless. I’m _lethal_ , a highly trained fighter. You see this scar?” He questioned the viewer, pointing towards his face and cocking his left eyebrow, making the obvious scar even more noticeable. “I got it from fighting off a moose,” He mouthed the words in such a serious tone and watching the lense so intensely Peter was tempted to believe him for a second. But of course, it was part of a joke. It had to be. So he huffed a laugh.

Wade didn’t seem to be joking when he kept going. “Y’all think it’s funny? It’s actually a thing we have to deal with, all canadians, but in the end that only makes us tougher. It’s an ancient art taught on generations upon generations,” Out of nowhere, the blond ppulled out a remote control and pressed a button, causing the image to switch to what resembled an old black and white documentary.

It showed some trees covered snow first, then a sight of some suburban houses, and then finally a short tape of Wade walking out of what looked like a bar in a plaid shirt sipping on his beer and flipping off whoever was filming. On white cursive letters a title popped up, it read “ _The Canadian Heritage: Moose Wrestling_ ”

A monotone voice started speaking as more old tapes ran, showing mooses in the woods followed by a video of a bunch of kids running around in a playground, " _Young Canadians get initiated in the fine art of moose wrestling at the tender age of five..._ "

And that was when Peter lost it. Worst part was that it just kept going, the videos showing first what seemed like a fight between a pair of mooses and then two kids running into each other, crashing and falling on their buts. “ _It is difficult, and many young Canadians do not make it past the first few stages. Those Canadians who do not get very far are then trained in the fine art of maple syrup,_ ”

The video stopped as if it had been paused and the image returned to Wade in his bedroom. “I think you can all tell I made it past those stages,” he commented with a wide grin. “Now don’t forget kids! _Moose Wrestling is just like Hockey._ It can be really dangerous unless you’re a Pro or Canadian. Because if you’re canadian your instincts will kick in and probably save you.” He added, looking pleased with himself.

The whole background turned black and white for a moment as Wade remained in technicolor when he kept talking, sounding somewhat different, concerned maybe? “Though that doesn't always mean you’ll get out of it completely unharmed, and I mean, seriously if any of you guys does Ice Hockey, always wear that fucking protection helmet, eh? Unless you wanna get an ugly ass scar on half of your face and nearly go blind from one eye in the process,”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up at that.

A second later the boy resumed with, “I’m turning into the nice part of the stereotype warning you all about this, shit,” before he continued his ramble, now focused on plaid shirts and the whole Maple Syrup obsession.

Still that transition had bugged Peter and he couldn’t find it in him to truly pay attention to the rest of the video afterwards.

It wasn’t that much because it was a shock finding out how the guy had gotten the marking that was the most prominent on his face and that it was something pretty metal; but because it truly surprised him that the guy had taken a moment not to talk about _it_ but to tell to anyone who was listening to him to be careful and not to make that mistake, to look out for themselves and stay safe, putting himself as an example.

It surprised the brunet in a heartwarming way, noticing that the guy was well aware of how popular he was and that he used that in his favor not to draw attention to himself but to something that could happen to anyone who practiced the sport he talked about so often in his videos.

Maybe it was a small detail, but he thought it was important.

Dropping the phone on his kitchen counter he approached his fridge knowing perfectly well he shouldn’t have felt so hopeful towards whatever contents he would find inside of it once he opened the door, but he did anyway. It only made the disappointment of finding half a stick of butter, a lemon and a pair of tomatoes even bitter.

He sighed, turning towards the cabinets and opening them quickly in succession, hoping to find at least a box of ramen so that he could have some sort of dinner that night. He should have added ‘going to the supermarket and buy groceries’ to the list of things he was doing today. How had he forgotten about that again?

He looked at his phone, the image on it displaying the blond boy in a blue oversized plaid shirt over his clothes, shaking his hands to make a point on how the sleeves were too long, frozen mid motion.

Oh, right.

He tapped the screen and the video resumed. “At least now it’s a trend lesbians and Supernatural fans are taking over, though I don’t really know if that’s for better or for worse,” the blond muttered, “is it really better that people assume you’re an undying fan of a show that should have been canceled at least five seasons ago instead of a timberman?”

There was a small huff, “You know it would actually be way funnier if I hadn’t actually watched all ten seasons,”

Peter snorted and grabbed the box he found after several futile attempts, and made a mental note on going shopping for groceries first thing in the morning.

It was just a moment later that the sound of the boy’s monologue tuned lower for a moment as a notification of an incoming email chimed above it.

Peter reached out for the device and paused the video once again, he filled up a small bowl with water and dropped the brick of noodles inside of it and proceeded to microwave it, unlocking the homescreen and deciding to check whatever message he had gotten within those five minutes.

At six thirty on a saturday, it couldn’t be that much of a big deal, right?

Five minutes later the microwave was beeping long forgotten, as Peter had raced all the way through his apartment to get to his laptop, grunting and whining when he realized he hadn’t left it turned on even if he knew that would only break it.

He cursed all the way through the start up, and through all the time that it took for the skype program to start up, and he also cursed his old phone and his lack of storage that wouldn’t allow him to download the app, and his damn router that sometimes wouldn’t let the wi-fi reach his room.

He ended up taking the laptop back to his living room and he sat beside said router just for good measure, as he looked through his contacts for a familiar roundy face and blue eyes next to a name and and a sarcastic or nerdy phrase set as a status.

 **Gwen Stacy**  
_Don’t trust atoms, they make up everything._

Well, it was a nerdy one this month, he thought as he hit the video call button.

The call ringed for a few minutes not getting any answer on the other end before getting disconnected as ‘ignored’, but that didn’t stop him from pressing that button again and again, refusing not to get an answer.

He knew somewhere deep inside him that he shouldn’t had been doing that, that Gwen was probably tired and it could wait until the morning after; besides, with her living in the UK maybe it was way too late over there and perhaps she was sleeping already. It could wait, and she would be just as excited as he was when he told her about it, in the morning.

The greater side of him, however, demanded him to tell her in that precise moment, because that was the way they had always done things while she was still living in New York. They were best friends, they didn’t wait for each other’s news whether they were good or bad.

She finally picked up by the fourth call, her face materializing behind a disgusting glitch on the screen. Beautiful sky blue eyes blinking sleepily behind thick rimmed glasses, her long silver blond hair tucked in a messy bun atop of her head and some rebel strands falling over her face; tiny freckles barely even noticeable in the low quality of the image sparkling across her cheeks, sat Gwendolyn Maxine Stacy behind the screen on her beautiful apartment on east side London.

“This better be good,” she greeted him smiling with clear annoyance, but knowing she could never really be mad at the boy who had called her from halfway across the globe. They had been through too much together, they both still cared a little too much about each other. Maybe more than exes should, but that was just the way they handled it.

Peter missed her all the time, he missed her laugh and her silly science jokes that sometimes only he understood, he missed her ponytail and her preppy skirts and the way she made coffee and how they would talk on hours on end every night before she moved away.

But it had happened, and even if they had hated it, it meant things had changed. They wouldn’t talk as often anymore, they wouldn’t share the same secrets as easily as they used to, they wouldn’t be in sync anymore.

But they still talked, they still shared secrets, they still tried. And most importantly, they were still the first person they’d call when something important happened to them.

She rested her cheek on her hand and looked at the boy with curiosity. “It’s half past eleven over here, I was about to go to bed, Spidey. Spit it out, what happened? What’s got you smiling so hard?”

Only then Peter realized the build up tension he was feeling on his cheeks and he tried to bite it back, to cool it down, but it was impossible. He couldn’t wash away the excitement that had spurted out in his chest after reading those first few words from that fatidic email.

He took a deep breath and let out a small laugh anyways.

“Do you remember _VidCon_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think after this chapter you're all getting an idea of where this story is heading to.
> 
> On another note: hey! I finally wrote Gwen! I'm really looking forward to write more about her and another characters in the next few chapters.
> 
> It's becoming a habit of mine to write the chapters of this story when I should be studying for exams instead. I really hope that doesn't mean something.
> 
> Thank you all for your coments and your help!! And also to the ones that have come talked to me on tumblr!! I'm really really happy that you're enjoying this story, even if it's a not top notch read, because honestly I'm quite enjoying writing it.
> 
> I've said it before and I'll say it again, you can always find me on [Tumblr](http://happy-little-ghost.tumblr.com) and we can talk about literally anything, so don't be shy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Q&A video with some bad news, and a phone call that gave great ideas

From: Me  
To: Dollface  
10:37 PM  
Peter Parker has FIVE tattoos and his TONGUE is DOUBLE PIERCED and I’m about to have a stroke.

“Shit,” Wade paused the video on his laptop and rewinded it a couple of minutes back when he realized he had missed half of what the brunet had said in the meantime that it had taken him to type that message after several attempts full of typos.

When he pressed play again he realized he had rewinded it far longer than he had attempted to, but he did nothing to change that fact and instead, he just set his eyes back on the video and listened again to words he had already heard.

The cropped image of a tweet appeared again over a blurry background that resembled Peter’s room, the voice of the boy read over the words of the tweet.

 **Not Coco™** _@fakechanel_  
_@amazingspiderman_ do u have any tattoos or piercings??

The brunet appeared once again on screen wearing a dark blue sweater over a button up shirt, and flashing a dazzling smile before answering. “I do, actually!” To that it followed a small cut and a camera adjustment, in which the boy shrugged and pulled back his sleeves slightly. “I love getting inked, and so far I’ve gotten five tattoos,” the boy held up his right hand and wiggled his fingers, casually displaying the small peaking lifeline inked to the inside of his wrist. “I have this little one right here,” he motioned towards his wrist with his other hand; “a pentagram with the first couple of notes of a song wrapped around my forearm, under my left elbow, I have half a sleeve of roses with a Tolkien quote on my right shoulder, because Tolkien rocks,” he let out a small laugh at that and placed his right hand on his chest before continuing. “I have the words ‘Make a change’ under my collarbone, and a really big spider on my left calf.

“As for piercings, I got a whole lot of them when I was on high school, and I’m still wondering how and why did my aunt and uncle even put up with that,” the boy on the video kept going, looking awkwardly and pointedly aside on that last comment, causing Wade to snort. Peter then proceeded to number out each and every piercing he had gotten, the video cutting and showing with each one he mentioned, a new tape of him wearing said piercing. The list was impressively long, and it included snake bites, a nose ring the guy mentioned he still wore from time to time, a septum, a smiley one that contrasted heavily against his pearly whites when he grinned, three earrings that looked like little nails on the upper side of his left ear shell, one on his right eyebrow he claimed to have regretted his entire life, and a set of double piercings, one on each side of his tongue, that caught the blond’s breath as he showed them off.

And then he had said “The tongue ones are the only ones I’ve always kept, mainly because they’re the easiest ones to hide, besides,” and he had the indecency, the nerve, to lick his lips in a way that made them visible once again, and grin wickedly; “I’ve always thought they look pretty sweet on me,”

“Nessa is right,” Wade murmured against his knuckles as he kept his stare on the screen and the boy answered the following meaningless question quickly, something about being popular in high school. “I’m so very fucked,”

His phone vibrated in his hand a second later as an incoming message blinked on his locked screen.

From: Dollface  
To: Me  
10:42 PM  
The guy is hot, water is wet. Groundbreaking.

Wade dedicated his phone a pointed stare before replying.

From: Me  
To: Dollface  
10:43 PM  
Fuck you

He tossed his phone back on the bed and looked back at the computer and the video still playing, not even bothering on rewinding it again and accepting his fate of having missed forever whatever the kid had said, focusing instead on the following question.

A new tweet popped up.

 **Levi**   _@ijustlovedogs_  
_@amazingspiderman_ how many instruments can you play?

The brunet appeared on screen again with an acoustic guitar hanging from his shoulders by a red strap and a metal support for a harmonica on his neck. “Well, at the same time? So far only two,” he answered before he started strumming seemingly random chords while simultaneously blowing on the rectangular instrument to the beat for a couple of seconds. He kept going for a couple of minutes, the rhythm quickly accelerating without him seeming to notice until his cheeks started to turn red and he separated from the harmonica to take a clearly exaggerated deep breath.

There was a cut and the boy was again standing in the room with no instruments clinging onto his body. “As for in general, I can play guitar, bass, drums, harmonica and piano,” he numbered each instrument with his fingers. “So I make most of the songs I cover on my other channel all by myself, both vocals and instrumental, I hardly use tracks anymore,” he added with just a hint of pride in his voice that didn’t go missing. It made Wade smile.

The kid was a prodigy. He still wondered how was it even possible that he had been so unknown to the world before he had made that shout out. Wade wasn’t by any means an expert, but he could recognize talent when he saw it, or rather heard it, in this guy’s case.

It just made him so much more interesting. Yes, maybe he had found out about him nearly a year ago because of his funny rants over seemingly every topic existent, and maybe at first he had subscribed because the guy was good looking and amusing and if that wasn’t a killer combination then Wade didn’t know what was.

But there was something else about him that had caught his attention within that first week of skimming through his channel videos. Finding out about the other channel and the songs he played had been something he did almost by accident, the guy was so insistent about it on every one of his earlier videos, curiosity had gotten the best of him.

And he had a great voice. It was obvious he had changed and learned a lot from his first covers that were hardly anything but tapes of him holding a guitar and singing as he played along, to the most recent ones that consisted of a picture as a solid background and audios that had been professionally edited. But it was more than just that, it wasn’t just that the kid had the talent, he had the passion to keep pushing forward and outdo himself with every new song he uploaded. He was _good_ , but he wanted to be _better_.

Wade liked that about him, he thought it was what was going to get him far.

He knew he was starstruck with the guy, and he knew he had it bad just like Nessa loved to claim and he loved to deny whenever he randomly brought him up to conversation; but he also knew that because of that it wouldn’t last. So he wasn’t gonna fight it. He had decided he was gonna let it pass like every other celebrity crush he had gotten, and reduce it to a harmless memory of being in love with someone he would never meet, like Bea Arthur.

Except that then the possibility of meeting the guy had suddenly become very present.

Vidcon was two weeks away and it was confirmed that Parker had been invited, even if he hadn’t confirmed he was going yet.

And those news had had Wade crawling up the walls even if he had played it cool whenever Nessa or Weasel asked him about it. He suspected neither of them had believed him when he had told them that he was excited but at the end of the day Peter was just like any other guy and he wasn’t gonna freak out about seeing him if it was that they did see each other at the Con.

He knew Nessa hadn’t bought that for a second and if she had, whatever chances he had ever gotten of keeping her thinking he was honest had been thrown through the window the moment he had called her while he was cooking -because whenever Wade Wilson was stressed, he had to cook something, anything, whether it was pizza or cookies or tacos or rice and roast beef, and make a mess out of his kitchen- and told her he was caving in from anxiety because he was terrified of meeting the guy and fucking things up bad.

He would never finish apologizing and thanking Nessa for putting up with his bullshit that night over something that, even though it still haunted him, it didn’t seem as stressing as it had in the moment.

The thing was, Wade realized that maybe he was a little more starstruck than he claimed to be. And he truly thought the kid was amazing and crazy talented and very funny and plain simple the kind of person he would have loved to be friends with. Or to take to his room, in all honesty.

And Vidcon held the chance of meeting him and having either possibility become a reality.

But there was also a very plausible possibility of ruining any sort of actual interaction he could have with the guy.

Thinking back upon it, Wade sighed and ran a hand over his face. It was all so much easier when they simply ignored each other besides the casual tweet or like that made Wade insanely happy to find out about. He could just fantasize about maybe one day talking to the guy and things going okay and them becoming friends and texting the same way he did everyday with Nessa, and maybe whenever he got to New York he could visit him too.

On a completely different scenario, he could also easily fantasize about a venom pierced tongue licking slowly a stripe up the skin on his neck and shiver to that thought, but that was even way less likely to happen.

Fantasies were good. Nothing could go wrong in his fantasies. Now real life, well, Wade knew real life could be many things but forgiving was not exactly one of them. And he already had problems getting along with people that weren’t like him and keeping up his friendship with them.

People like him meaning, and let’s just say it for what it’s really worth, assholes. Maybe nice assholes, but assholes nonetheless.

The only person that wasn’t like that, and that he had somehow maintained a friendship with that he could think of was Bob. And boy if Bob wasn’t a character of his own.

Peter, on his end, looked like the epitome of everything that was good.

So long story short, he was nervous about this year’s Vidcon, to put it mildly. Especially nervous about the assistance of a peculiar brunet, and about the way he was certain that, if he ran into him, it would only end up in disaster; even if part of him was brimming with excitement to the idea of having him in the flesh in front of him.

And it was in that exact moment that the video pulled him out of his trance, and he cursed himself for having missed a bunch of questions he’d have to watch again later.

A new question popped up.

 **Sunflower** _@soline_  
_@amazingspiderman_ _@vidconofficial_ page says u were invited is this true?? will u be going this year?

“To answer the first question, yes, I was invited, I got the email yesterday and I was really excited about it,” the brunet answered in a neutral tone, and Wade quickly noticed the way he started fumbling with his hands awkwardly, lacing his fingers and twisting them abnormally as he took a deep breath. Wade felt his gut sinking even before the boy pronounced the words at those telltale signs.

“But sadly I won’t be able to make it this year to Vidcon,” the younger boy sighed, looking actually pained to say that. “You’ll see, I got the invite on really short notice and it seems like this year the administration decided to invest on the place where it’s taking place rather than getting most of the people they invited there,” he explained, picking on his sweater sleeves.

“If I had been told maybe a week earlier maybe I could have worked something out, but right now I just can’t afford a plane ticket to San Francisco, let alone half the cost of the hotel I’d be staying at,” the boy shrugged and casted his eyes downwards, almost as if he was looking away in shame. Wade frowned at that, moved at how bummed out the poor vlogger looked. The boy in the video took a deep breath and faced the camera once again, a fake smile taking up half of his features and not quite reaching his eyes. “Maybe next year I’ll make it, but now it’s just not possible. I’m really sorry guys, I really would have loved meeting you all there,”

“This is bad,” Wade murmured as he pressed the spacebar and paused the video once again. “Oh my God. This is real bad,”

Wade reached out to grab his phone and got up from his bed immediately after, walking through his apartment barefoot and heading towards the balcony. He unlocked his phone and mindlessly read the last message he had received from Vanessa, rolling his eyes at what it said.

From: Dollface  
To: Me  
10:51 PM  
Been there, done that. But right now I think I’m a couple of tattoos and piercings short in your bang scale.

He pressed call without thinking twice, sliding the door of the balcony aside and stepping outside. He felt the cold wind hit against his face and the frozen tiles underneath his toes, but none of that mattered as he waited for his friend to pick up, counting each dial tone that ringed against his left ear.

He let out a breath and watched a small puff of smoke escape from his mouth, and he subconsciously reached deep into his ripped jeans' front pocket, looking for a lighter he knew he didn’t have.

“What did he do now?” Came a sleepy, sickly sweet voice through the speaker. “Let me guess, he took his shirt off, showed all of his ink and you’re having palpitations,” there was a muffled laugh from the other end of the call.

Wade pinched the bridge of his nose for a second and counted to ten. Well, he tried. He mainly repeated himself that he had it coming, he knew he had it coming, he should have seen it coming. Vanessa just kept talking and teasing him.

“Isn’t this getting a little old, Wade?” he heard her yawn and for a moment tried to do the math of what time it was back there in New York City. Was it one or two am already? “I mean, I get it. I’ve been where you are, all heart eyes all over a cute butt. But at least by now I would have talked to said cute butt already,”

Wade fought the urge to roll his eyes yet again before cutting her off. “He’s not going,”

There was a small pause on Nessa’s end. “I’m sorry, what did you just said?”

“Parker. He’s not going to VidCon, he can’t afford the plane ticket,” Wade explained and half crossed his arms over his chest, still keeping the device against his ear.

“Well, damn,” Vanessa’s voice had turned gentle. There were a few moments of sole silence shared between them before she spoke up again. “Well, at least now you don’t have to be nervous about meeting him and fucking it up,” she supplied.

And Wade couldn’t help but snort. “When you’ve got a point…”

“Seriously?” She asked, sounding annoyed. “You’re just gonna let me get away with that?”

The blond shrugged, knowing fully well she couldn’t see him. “What were you expecting me to say?”

“Well, ‘fuck you’ seemed plausible,” Wade let out a scoff at that. “Dude, you’re dying to meet the guy, even if you keep saying it’s gonna turn like shit. You don’t care if it turns out that way, deep down, we both know you know all you wanted to hear was that he was going, so why _aren’t_ you cursing like your hockey team lost the final for the third year in a row and crying while you’re calling me?”

Wade bit back the smile Nessa’s honest words brought out on him. Damn it if she couldn’t read him like an open book even thousands of miles away.

He breathed out, blinking off the dryness on his eyes that the chilling wind had caused. “Maybe the reality of it hasn’t sunken in just yet to me,”

“Maybe,” she agreed, her voice turning into a mumble, compliant but not sounding as happy as before. “I’m really sorry, honey,” she added a moment later.

Wade shook his head to no one in particular as he talked back. “Not your fault, baby,” he pointed out. “If the universe doesn’t want it to be, then maybe it shouldn’t be,”

He heard Nessa giggle from the other side of the call. “Since when do you care what ‘ _the universe_ ’ has to say? You hate being told what to do and you hate sitting around and waiting for shit to happen. You’ve gone against it your whole life,”

“Only when I could do something about it, doll,” he argued.

There was a pause on Nessa’s end. “Are you sure there is nothing you could do now?”

Wade didn’t answer right away. Instead he took a moment as well to think about that question as he looked into the city lights that rose in front of him, those twinkling artificial constellations that felt just as foreign to him as he felt to every new city he moved to.

A smile crept slowly on his lips.

“Nessa?”

“Yes, babe?”

“I think I just had an idea, and I’m gonna need your help,” he turned on his heel and walked right back inside. “But first, I’m gonna get validation from the internet,”

There was a sigh from Vanessa. “Fine. Call me when you get a million retweets,”

“A million, noted.”

After Nessa hung up, the blond didn’t allow himself to waste a single second hesitating about it. The clock on his microwave read 11:26 by the time he had hit the button that read ‘tweet’ on that white and light blue colored app of his phone.

 **Captain Deadpool** _@realdeadpool_  
So bummed out about _@amazingspiderman_ not making it to VidCon this year :(

And right after.

 **Captain Deadpool** _@realdeadpool_  
If this gets a million retweets, I’m getting _@amazingspiderman_ to VidCon myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For once in the history of this story, this chapter was not written while the author should have been studying.
> 
> Early update! Because I was really feeling like it and I'm getting closer to where I wanna take this story.
> 
> Thank you all again for all of your comments, and also for coming to talk to me on [tumblr](http://happy-little-ghost.tumbr.com)!! You're the best, guys.
> 
> If you haven't, well, I'm always around and I love talking to you about anything, so just go for it! Or leave comments if you want to! Feedback is much appreciated :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two phone calls.

“I think I’m about to do something really stupid,” he blurted bluntly through the speaker the moment the dial tone had come to a sudden stop, knowing fully well that the person on the other end of the line would be listening.

“Sounds to me like every other decision you ever made,” came the reply from a familiarly apathetic voice tone.

Wade hummed. “Does that include working for you?” He questioned the man.

“You almost got stabbed twice on your first week,” the other pointed out as an example. “And you never got tips, if anything I think customers paid less when they saw your ugly mug, I got in debt because of you, that’s why I fired you in the first place,”

“Weasel we both know I quitted,” Wade scoffed as he moved through his living room, his stare wandering through the titles of a bunch of yet unread books stacked carelessly on a shelf right next to a couple of DVD and video game cases.

“Yes, to pursue your dream of becoming a camboy and make millions selling your body to the masses,” said Weasel, and just a second later a loud crash and following twinkling sounds came through the phone.

“At least the masses tip,” Wade responded proudly. “What was that? Are you still at the bar?” He asked quickly after.

“Some dudes just decided to play darts with broken glass, and _yes_ ,” his friend answered in a dull tone that spoke of having witnessed a scene like that way too many times to be bothered by it. “Which brings me to something I’ve been meaning to ask; why the hell are you calling me at _ass o’clock_ in the morning? Isn’t Vanessa supposed to be the one you call on after hours?”

“I needed advice,” Wade explained, picking up a hoodie that had been disregarded over the sofa and throwing it over his shoulder, proceeding to do so with the rest of the random clothes that had been left lying around a couple of days ago when he had arrived from a radio interview exhausted and decided to turned the heating on, take off every single one of the four layers that had protected him while he was outside and lie on the couch on his briefs like it was a summer day while there was still snow falling down and piling up on his balcony, because summer heat was always a bitch, but winter’s cold in Vancouver would get unbearable some days.

“Over doing something stupid? And since when is my insight so valuable on your everyday choices?” Asked the man sounding annoyed, though Wade had learned long ago that that seemed to be Weasel’s neutral voice tone.

“Since I promised the internet I’d do something and now I’m realizing how stupid that was,” Wade deadpanned, walking past a door on the hall and dropping the items he had collected inside the washing machine.

There was a pause on Weasel’s end. “Well, if you did it it was because you wanted to make sure you’d do it later,”

“I know myself that much, Weas,” said the blond.

“What was it?” There was another distant murmur of shattering glass, followed by an angry yell that resembled something like ‘ _you’re all gonna pay for that!_ ’ coming from Weasel; who, Wade supposed, had the decency to put his phone away to avoid piercing his eardrums.

He only responded when he heard back the other man’s breathing through the line and he was certain he was listening. “I promised I was gonna get Parker to VidCon after he said he wasn’t going cause he was broke,” he spat out, practically punching the buttons on the device to set it running.

A sound akin to a grunt, that Wade recognized quickly as a snort, erupted from the phone. The blond rolled his eyes instantly. “Okay, let me get this straight. You can’t bring yourself to talk to the guy, but you’re gonna make sure he’s at the one event you’ve been getting anxious about meeting him at?”

“Shut up,” the other one mustered.

“You’re right, it is stupid, and _hilarious_ ,” Weasel’s smile was evident in his tone now. “So what? You’re getting cold feet now?”

Wade let out a sigh. “I don’t have a problem with paying for it, I’d do it in a heartbeat. If I could just send the money and have the VidCon guys tell him it’d be awesome. The thing is it doesn’t work that way and I have to tell the guy,”

“Why? Can’t you just send him a letter or something?” Questioned Weasel.

The blonde bit his lip. “...I kind of already stated that I was gonna call him when somebody asked me if I thought he’d be okay with it,”

“Dude, you _seriously_ have to stop making promises to the internet,” The bar owner hadn’t dropped the diverted tone from his voice just yet, but he did sound a tad more serious as he pronounced that. “Or you need to get some help since those are the only ones you actually keep,”

“I know,” Wade sighed, running a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Now I’m stuck because I didn’t think I’d actually get this far,”

“Isn’t that pretty much how your life goes?” His friend commented nonchalantly.

“ _Weasel_ ,” the blond called him out. “Not helping,”

“Alright, I’m just gonna tell you what you don’t wanna hear, cause that’s the real reason you called,” the other man said. “You gotta do it, stop stalling and call the guy, do what you gotta do,”

“What if I fuck it up?” Wade moved from his spot in front on the machine and back to the kitchen where he had left his laptop. “What if I embarrass myself?”

Weasel let out a clearly exasperated sigh. “Wade, you’re _twenty fucking eight_ years old, you can handle a goddamn fuck up. You have to do it, so go ahead and do it and fuck it up if you must, but _do it_ ,”

There was a brief silence before Wade spoke up again. “You should seriously consider a career as a motivational speaker,”

“I run a bar, encouraging people to make bad decisions kinda comes with the job,” was the only response he got before the call ended.

 

* * *

 

The first thought that crossed Peter’s mind was ‘ _it’s too early for this_ ’.

The second thought that crossed his mind was that it had been a tremendously stupid idea from his landlord to place the only two phone line jacks at the kitchen and inside the main bedroom.

But then again, who even kept a phone on their nightstand anymore?

 _Peter Parker did_. And he had never regretted said life choice harder than that particular moment.

Three am is never a good time to get a phone call. Not on your cell phone, not on your house’s phone. Getting a phone call at three am either meant dealing with annoying outsourced telemarketers who were simply doing their job and that he never had the heart to hang up right away to, or getting bad news about someone being in an accident, in the hospital or in need of a life or death kind of favor.

Getting a phone call at three am after a bad day in which not only did he find out he wouldn’t be going to that thing he really wanted to go but also that the images he had sent to that magazine gig he had worked so hard on hadn’t gotten attached to the email, meaning he wouldn’t get paid the amount he had been promised for not doing the job in time, meaning he didn’t know if he would make it to pay rent by the beginning of the following month unless he ate nothing but cheap ramen for the following weeks, because the little extra money that he did had he had spent it in better recording equipment, which was also the reason why he couldn’t even get a bus ticket to get to San Francisco either; meant the other shoe hadn’t dropped just _yet_.

And so Peter lied on his bed after the first ring had startled him out from a dreamless sleep, still not fully awake but somehow contemplating the pros and cons of the situation as his stare wandered from his analog clock, to the low orange light coming from the phone screen, back to the slightly blurry numbers on his clock.

03:24 AM. Or something like that.

He let it ring three more times, still lost in that trance that made him not fully aware of what was really going on but aware enough to know that something was happening, and he had to react one way or another.

He hesitated for a moment as the ring paused for a couple of seconds seemingly too long, believing that the call had ended for good suddenly.

When it rang again for the fourth time, he reached out for the device and pressed the answer button, placing it against his head instinctively but never changing his lying position over the mattress.

“Hello?” He mumbled tentatively as a greeting.

There was a deep exhale before a deep voice came through the speaker saying, “Hey, is this Peter Parker’s number?”

“I’d believe so, he’s speaking,” he said in response, letting go of a tired breath before continuing. “Who’s this?”

“Oh my God, great, I was afraid it was the wrong number again,” there was a small, breathless laugh from the other end of the line. “I, eh, my name’s Wade, Wade Wilson,”

The mention of the caller’s name startled him for a second. And he swore that he recognized that voice from somewhere, but right then he just couldn't bring himself to place where from exactly. “Wade… Wilson?” He probed the syllables on his mouth, seeing if it somehow brought anything back. Still nothing. Nope, he thought to himself, he definitely _wasn’t_ awake enough for this. “Wait, do I know you?” He tried asking, muffling a yawn against his fist right afterwards and fixing his useless stare on the boring blue ceiling of his room.

Another nervous laugh. “Well, not personally. _Yet_ , at least,” provided the stranger as a response, his tone sounded confident, yet it had faltered ever so slightly in a way that clearly gave away he wasn’t nearly as secure as he tried to show himself. Like he was scared of saying something, like he was keeping a secret of some sort.

“Huh,” Peter’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. What had that even mean? He decided not to dwell on it and ask the mysterious caller a question, choosing not to worry on whether it came off too strongly or if the annoyance in his voice was too obvious. “Listen, uh, Wade. Is there any particular reason you’re calling me at three am on a tuesday?”

There was a pause. “ _Shit_ , is it three am there?”

Peter’s brow only furrowed deeper at that. “Unless my clock is broken again, which I hope not, cause I’d really love not to get late to work again tomorrow- I mean, today,”

“Fuck, shit I’m so sorry man,” the caller apologized, to which Peter let out a small laugh when noticing how concerned the poor man sounded as he cursed. “Really, sorry. It’s just it’s barely past midnight over here and, shit, I’ve been living in Vancouver for over _three_ months now and I still forget that it’s a totally different time zone,”

“Wait, you’re calling from _Vancouver_?” The brunet cut off the guy before he could go on, his attention caught by that tiny detail.

“Eh, well, yeah. I mean I think I know where I’m currently living,” the voice on the other end of the line sounded somewhat diverted with his question.

Peter blinked. “That’s in _Canada_ ,” he accused.

The voice on the other end of the line let out a laugh unlike the previous ones he had heard before, genuine and surprised. “Yes, it still was last time I checked the map.”

“What- why-,” Peter mumbled, struggling for a second to find the words he was trying to convey, “ _Why_ are you calling me from _Canada_?”

“Well, I’m trying to get to the actual _why_ ,” the voice explained. “But as for ‘ _why from Canada_ ’ all I can come up with is because... I live there now? I mean, I lived here before, I was born here, I guess I wanted to come back sometime?”

“Wait so,” Peter let out a huff, trying to process all of the new information. “You’re saying you’re _canadian_ now?”

“I… kind of always have been?” The voice asked rhetorically, and Peter didn’t slip on how obvious it was that the guy, Wade, was trying to hold back his amusement.

Peter stayed quiet in disbelief.

It bothered him. What was so funny about it? Was he making fun of him? Seriously what was this guy’s problem? Peter has asked nothing but serious questions to try to piece together the incomprehensible jumble of information the guy kept supplying instead of delivering a straight answer to what he had asked first.

Why had Wade Wilson, the canadian guy living in Vancouver, called him at three twenty am on a tuesday?

“Eh, hello?” The guy asked after a whole minute of pointed silence. “Are you still there?”

Peter’s mind seemed to slow down for a second before it all came back to him.

A canadian guy, living in Vancouver; who knew him, just not personally yet, named _Wade Wilson_.

It wasn’t like realizing the pieces of a puzzle were connecting and finally falling into place. It was more like realizing a truck was about to hit him while he was crossing the street. After living in New York City his entire life, Peter was somewhat familiar to that feeling. But definitely not like that.

It was like whiplash.

“Holy mother of-” he sat up on his bed so fast his head felt dizzy. “You’re Wade Wilson,”

The voice, that suddenly obviously familiar voice barked a laugh through the speaker. “That’s still legally my name,”

“I know, I mean, sh-” the boy covered his mouth with his free hand before any more words could escape his lips, muffling a matching albeit considerably more nervous laugh. “I-I know who you are, you’re _deadpool_ ,”

“Are you serious? You _just_ noticed?” Asked the caller sounding just as bemused as before.

“ _Yes!_ ” The brunet responded, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “I was- I was still asleep when I answered, oh God,” his explanation dissolved into another burst of anxious laughter.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” the other said in the same apologetic way, though his tone was lighter. “I’m a mess when it comes to time zones, for real,”

“No, it’s okay man, I just-” he let out a scoff. “I was convinced this was a prank call for a moment,”

“Don’t worry it’s not one of those yet,” warned the other one. “Actually, for once in my life, this is about something important,”

That final sentence caught Peter off guard for a second, specially because the suddenly conscious side of him was still working on processing the reality of what was happening. Half of him was still coming to terms that the voice on the other side of the line belonged to no other than the guy who’s videos he had been binge watching over the previous week, the guy who had managed to make people on the net turn on his direction and listen to him with as much of a mention and a shout out, the guy that popped up constantly on his social media feed and who sometimes liked his posts, yet who had never actually done as much as to send him a direct message on any network.

And right then he was talking _to him_ , through the phone, apparently for an important reason.

Peter’s brain might as well had shut down right then. Instead, it just seemed to work faster than ever when he stammered “Uh, yeah. You still haven’t told me why did you even call. Wait, how did you get my number?”

“Friend of a friend,” came the answer to his question. “And I called because I heard you weren’t going to make it to VidCon this year,”

“Oh, yeah. That,” was all Peter could muster out upon being reminded of it, trying to ignore the shot of anger that ran through him at the memory of the exact moment he had realized he had gotten his hopes up for nothing.

And in reality, it had been crushing. He had been reading the entirety of the email out loud to Gwen while they had been skyping, a smile plastered on his face resembling the kind of magic kids found on the glint and twinkle of sparking christmas decorations, until he had reached the part where it notified all those who had been invited of the changes imposed by the new management and that specified that the funds had been deviated from the transportation and housing they usually provided to the rent of a building that ensured more space and better security than the one that had been originally proposed.

And that had meant Peter would have to pay his share from where the funds had been deviated.

And Peter was simply broke. Meaning no VidCon for him anytime soon.

“Yeah, tough call man,” Wade said. “I mean, I was really hoping to see you there, you really earned that invite,”

Peter couldn’t help but snort at that. “Says the guy I currently owe over half of my followers,”

“Hey dude, all I did was telling my people you were cool,” argued the blond. “You did the rest. You deserved that spot,”

Peter let himself feel his smile grow bigger. “Well, seriously, thanks man. Coming from you that’s huge,”

“Coming from me?” The other one asked with fake innocence.

Peter rolled his eyes. “You do realize you have way over thirty million followers on YouTube, don’t you?”

Peter heard a snort. “I do, I just didn’t think it mattered. Half of the people that knows me says I ain’t that funny,”

“I think you’re funny,” the brunet mumbled in response, his eyes wandering through the blur that was his room for a moment.

There was a brief pause that lasted less than a second before the blond practically yelled through the speaker, “ _Daaaaw_ , that was so nice, I almost believed it,”

The response confused Peter for a second, but he laughed nonetheless.

He didn’t get enough time to say anything before Wade was talking once again. “Hey about VidCon, there was something else I wanted to tell you,”

“What is it? You’re gonna make sure somebody prints a life size cardboard of me so you can all pretend I was there?” Peter joked thinking that if he guided himself for what he had seen Wade do in some of his videos, it seemed completely plausible.

“You know, that is one great idea and I don’t know how I didn’t think of that earlier,” Peter snorted again at that. “I’ll make sure to do that if you say no,”

Peter closed his eyes, confused at that before asking, “If I say no?”

He heard an exhale from the other end of the line. “Well this seems like a nice moment to actually say what I’ve been meaning to,”

“And what would that be?” Peter pressed further.

“Listen, I really want you to go to VidCon, and a lot of people seem to want that too. I mean I know at least _a million and a half_ who certainly does,” the vlogger said. “And I know the main reason you’re not going is because you can’t afford to get there, and I really don’t want you to take this as charity because believe me, it ain’t; but I wanna help you get there,”

Peter remained in silence after Wade’s explanation, his mind replaying his speech word by word until they seemed to lost all meaning and the boy saw himself forced to blurt out, “I’m not sure I’m following, what do you mean?”

Wade let out a sight that sounded a little too cheery to be exasperated. “I mean I wanna get you to VidCon,”

“You mean…” Peter repeated, still unsure if he was getting what the other man was saying.

“I mean I wanna pay for the plane ticket you need to get to Frisco, and if you still need help I’ll cover up the hotel too,” the blond explained carefully, as if he was scared that Peter would fail to understand him once again. “Look, I really don’t mind, it’s just there is a lot of people who wanna see you there. _Me_ included. I’ll do it if you let me,”

Peter felt himself gape as he struggled once more to find words to push past his tongue after hearing all of that. After feeling himself tongue tied for too long, all he managed to say was, “This isn’t a joke, right? You’re not- you’re not kidding me right now, are you?”

“Uh, no, this is still not a prank call, I believe,” came the reassuring reply. Followed by, “Though, I have to ask Mister Parker, is by any chance your fridge running?”

And even though Peter felt like screaming right then, all he did was laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow an update within less than a week. And the chapter is longer than the others. Look at that. I wonder when will that ever happen again.
> 
> I swear this story is gonna get more serious over time, but for now I'm just really enjoying writting these two being oblivious. I think you're gonna hate me when they become actual friends.
> 
> Guys your comments literally give me life, I swear. There is nothing quite as pleasing as noticing new comments to be honest.
> 
> You can always find me on [tumblr](http://happy-little-ghost.tumblr.com), and come talk to me about literally anything :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Video-call and a face to face conversation.

The image on his laptop glitched as the sound kept blasting from its speakers. A familiar voice flooded the entirety of the apartment, and Peter could hear her even when he moved away from the computer that rested in the counter of his kitchen to go search for the empty bottles of water he had left in his bedroom after he realized he didn’t have a single one left in his fridge.

“I still can’t believe it,” the blonde said for what it felt like the uptenth time as the boy filled up one of the bottles with water from his sink. Peter snorted. “When did the Parker Luck change?”

“Stop saying that out loud, you’re tempting fate,” the brunet threatened mockingly. He placed the bottles back in his fridge and took a look inside, searching for whatever he had and could use to make a decent lunch for two after Miles had texted him saying he was coming over. “Is there something I can make using just tomatoes, peas, butter, tuna and maybe rice, or ramen?” He asked out loud.

The reply from his computer was almost instant, “Depends, are we talking about something Miles would like?” Gwen asked, out of sight, in return.

Peter made an affirmative sound before stepping out of the cold and closing the door. “I know it’s a lost battle, but give me some hope,”

“Just order some pizza,” she laughed, and Peter walked to stand in front of the screen once again.

He pouted at his friend’s diverted stare. “But I wanted to cook something. You know homemade food always tastes better,”

“As much as I love watching you cook and try not to set your house on fire in the process, we both know Miles is gonna hate knowing you passed up the opportunity of having pizza on a thursday,” she explained.

Peter groaned as he snatched the phone he kept on the kitchen and leaned back against the table he had still yet to set, punching the numbers from a familiar pizza place that was only two blocks away. “If I keep ordering food I’m gonna be even _more_ broke than I already am,”

At that Gwen merely let out a giggle.

After having ordered he set back into motion, picking a purple tablecloth from a counter and throwing it over the piece of furniture as he started talking back.

“Is there any chance you’re coming back for the holidays?” He asked hopefully, even if he knew the answer he was expecting was unlikely to be heard. He turned his head to see the blonde’s frozen guilty expression on the screen and let out a sigh.

Just because having these talks to her had become familiar, it never made it any easier. And it wasn’t just because of the time zone issues, that was something they had sorted out through time, and with a lot of patience neither of them had yet found out where it had come from in the first place. It was because missing someone physically never really got better, even if they could still manage to talk to each other. It always ended up turning into missing other things, like the way they talked, walked, laughed, their little quirks and mannerisms. The way they had their coffee, the way they knocked on doors, the way they mixed and matched their clothes. Little details that with time seemed even more evidently non existent in his everyday anymore and that he felt terrified to forget as he became more numb towards the loss.

Maybe if she hadn’t moved so far away, it would hurt a little less. Maybe if she lived somewhat closer, the distance wouldn’t strike him so hard even if years had passed.

But he knew Gwen had given up a lot of things when she had decided to take upon the scholarship she had been offered in London, so he would never even dream of holding any of the consequences against her, since he knew she was affected just as much, or maybe even more than her friends by that decision.

And it was just evident in her face and her voice as she replied, “I’m pulling some strings to come back this winter, I just don’t think I’ll be home for Christmas this year,”

Peter tried to look on the bright side. “Hey, at least there is a chance you’re coming twice this year, that’s good news,” he smiled at her, and Gwen tried to mirror his gesture, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yeah, there is that,” she accepted. He noticed the way she grabbed her own computer and began moving, taking it with her as she walked into her living room. “Still, it’s gonna take a while,”

“Well, it’d be silly assuming that I can’t wait at this point of our friendship,” Peter shrugged and Gwen gave him a glare that he ignored. “Though in the metaphorical sense, yes. I can’t wait to see you. And neither can Miles, he misses you. And neither can your mom, or your little brothers. They still call me sometimes to ask about you, do they even know you have skype? And I mean, they could send you letters, too. Mail ain’t dead yet,”

Gwen laughed at that. “They spam me with emails, but who even checks their internet mailbox anymore?”

“ _I_ do,” replied the boy, mockingly annoyed.

Gwen’s eyes fixated on him -on her camera, more precisely- before she said, “You know, for someone who hates being called a caveman, you give plenty of reasons for Miles to call you that way,”

Peter just rolled his eyes and walked closer towards the cabinets, opening them and stepping on his tiptoes to reach for a pair of glasses from the tallest shelf. “If it wasn’t because of reading my emails, I wouldn’t be _going_ to VidCon,” he argued, placing the glasses on the table and going for a pair of plates.

“No, if it wasn’t because of reading your emails, you wouldn’t have found out you couldn’t _afford_ going to VidCon in the first place,” his friend exposed.

Peter finished setting the table and looked once again towards his computer, standing in front of it. He glared at it, at the person on the other side of the screen who was smiling smugly. “Who’s going to VidCon anyways?”

Gwen’s eyebrows shot upwards, her expression still amused. “You’re only going because that guy is paying for it. I still can’t believe it,” she repeated, but this time she didn’t sound excited at all. “I never pegged you for the kind of guy who had a sugar daddy,” she teased.

“Ew. _EW_ , I barely even know the guy. No, _nope_ ,” he exclaimed, taking a step closer and covering the camera with his hand, the small rectangle at the top of the screen resembling his own image turning black suddenly as his other hand hovered over the mouse pad.

“Peter?” The blonde questioned at his action.

“Can’t hear you! I’m going through a tunnel!” He yelled shamelessly, followed by a bunch of incomprehensible and purposefully cut babble as he moved the cursor through the screen, looking for the button to end the call.

“Real mature, Spidey,” he saw Gwen roll her bright, sky blue eyes on the screen, before the image froze once more and the call finally disconnected. Gwen had ended it.

 

* * *

 

Miles, like every other seventeen year old with an ounce of common sense, made a beeline towards the table the second he smelled pizza at Peter’s front door.

Peter couldn’t blame him, after all, it was free food for him. He did however, pushed him into a conversation even though it was evident the only thing Miles had set his mind and his mouth into was devouring slice after slice of glorious greasy food.

Some people would have thought that with them having known each other for years, and being a fact that they talked through the phone and texted on a daily basis, maybe there wasn’t much to talk about when they were face to face; but that simply wasn’t the case. There was always something to talk about, whether it was about Miles’ mom and how she had started dating a man that for once didn’t seem suspicious to him, or about Peter’s aunt May and how she had decided it was a fantastic idea to sign up for skydiving lessons - and how Peter had almost had a heart attack when he found out, after she had taken the first _five_ classes-; about school and grades, or about work and the unusual complications that weren’t supposed to happen, yet did every time.

But lately, their conversations seemed to always revolve around the same topic: Peter’s musical career and the way it had started to take off alongside his other videos, that had become insanely popular ever since that shout out from Wade.

It was weird, but not in a bad way. Unusual could have been a good word to describe the situation and how it had escalated over the course of those three months. It was unusual because Peter had never been used to getting the amount of attention he was getting at the moment in any aspect of his life.

It was _weird_ finding himself checking his notifications and seeing hundreds of likes, retweets, comments and mentions when he had barely gotten used to seeing dozens before, and even then he had been excited.

It was _weird_ having strangers sending him direct messages telling him that they loved his work and that they wanted more of it on every social network every day, when he was used to getting maybe one or two a week and he felt blessed when they were either words of encouragement or feedback.

It was _weird_ , because he was still processing the fact that a girl had spotted him on a coffee shop, recognized him, and asked for a picture a couple of days ago.

Granted, he had had a fair amount of friends through high school; but he had never been by any means popular. He wasn’t used to receiving so much attention; and even if it had happened somewhat gradually, it still felt very sudden.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like it, he even found himself enjoying it to a certain degree; it was after all what he had been asking for, to be heard, to be listened to. But it just still didn’t feel normal.

And in a way, it frightened him. It frightened him because he knew that as easily as people had decided he was interesting, they could easily change their minds as well. So deep down, he knew he didn’t want to get used to it either, in the very possible scenario that the internet found him boring and casted him as old news; even if he tried to keep a positive attitude towards the whirl he had found himself thrown into.

He wanted to believe, too, that all of his hard work would pay off. That there was reason why he was where he was, beyond the fact that someone had set a metaphorical spotlight on him, and that it was something bound to last.

“You worry too much, Pete,” Miles insisted as he took another bite. “Look, as I see it, it can only go up from here. I’m telling you, Spidey,”

Peter gulped down some water and shrugged before responding. “It’s not that simple, Miles,”

“Yes, it is,” said the teen. “Look, you’re crazy talented, and this was meant to happen. Somebody was bound to notice you are one fucking awesome musician,”

“Hey! Watch that mouth,” The brunet cut him off. “We might be friends but technically I’m looking after you, so no cursing on my table,”

Miles just rolled his eyes. “As I was saying, somebody had to notice you and your awesomeness,” he kept going, earning half a smile from his older friend. “And that someone just happened to be no other than Wade ‘King of the Net’ _Mother_ -” Miles paused as Peter’s eyebrows shot up, “ _hugging_ Wilson. There, you happy?”

“Very,” the older one breathed out in a laugh.

“You should be,” Miles eyed the last slice of pizza left in the box and then at Peter, implying a silent question that his friend answered immediately with a nod. He snatched it quickly and took a bite at it, before talking once again. “I mean, talk about exposure. Not only that, the guy seems to like you so much, he’s the literal reason you’re going to VidCon. This is huge, Spidey,”

Peter stretched on his seat and took a deep breath, the same usual thoughts that came around so often on those last couple of days after the phone call making an appearance once again. “ _I know_ , that’s why I get nervous in the first place,” he explained, lacing his fingers behind his head. “This whole deal sets the bar higher for me, messing this up is not an option,”

“Dude, you _seriously_ need to chill. You’re gonna do great in Frisco,” Miles said, taking another bite and giving him an annoyed glance. “See, your problem is you don’t wanna realize that you’re becoming famous,”

The brunet snorted. “I’m not,”

“Yes, you are!” The younger one exclaimed. “You need to face that fact and embrace it now, because otherwise, when people come at you on that con saying they are your biggest fans -which you and me know it’s gonna be a lie- you’re gonna freeze and it’s gonna be awkward, and then you’re definitely gonna mess things up because in your head you already did,”

Peter remained quiet for a couple of seconds, just staring at his friend with a perplexed expression. “That… actually makes a lot of sense,”

“Of course it does, I know you. Duh," Miles smiled proudly. “Speaking of VidCon, I have two questions for you,” he said after tossing the crust on his plate.

Peter shrugged and let his arms fall back to his sides, looking at the plates and debating for a moment if he should pick them up or if it could wait until after the end of this particular part of the conversation, since Miles’ voice had turned somewhat serious. “Shoot,” he replied.

Miles pushed his plate forward and ceremoniously placed his arms over the table, his hands resting one above the other in a motion that resembled every businessman they had ever seen in TV shows and movies right before a major deal was settled. “Have you figured out what you’re gonna do at VidCon? Are you gonna show up with your guitar or…?” He let the question hanging in the air for Peter to respond.

The boy bit his lower lip, thinking his answer through for a moment. “I was thinking of doing a monologue, I mean I could take the guitar but most people there know me from the vlogs so…” he made a gesture with his hand. “It’d be like stand up comedy, _I guess_ ,”

The younger one nodded. “Well, that’s what most people do. I mean, besides the Q&A’s.” He commented nonchalantly, before adding “Just make sure it’s good, try to do something people will remember,”

“What do you mean by that?” the other one asked, taken a little aback with that last comment.

“I mean, there are always _memorable_ moments from those events,” Miles explained. “Things that make people remember them because of it and sometimes you have great segments that go unnoticed because of those. So try to do something that is hard to forget,”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Like what?”

“Well,” Miles sighed and seemed to think about it. “You know, last year? They almost kicked out Deadpool ‘cause he and this other guy hacked into the place’s audio and lightening system and they started blasting music and turning the lights on and off in the middle of a bunch of presentations and they started a dance party every two hours or so,”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up at that. “So _that’s_ what happened?” He asked, remembering how when he had tried to watch some videos from a couple of other vloggers he followed the previous year, most of them had been cut in the middle after there had been a power shutdown and the lights had gone off. Some others, however, displayed exactly what Miles had described, people dancing under strobe lights for a couple of minutes before everything went back to normal.

Miles nodded. “There were rumors that management wasn’t gonna let him show up this year because of that,” his friend commented in an amused tone. “A lot of people complained about it, but it seems like there was even more people rooting for him. Anyway, that whole thing was one of the epic moments of that VidCon,”

“I figured,” the brunet sighed. “It’s gonna be hard to top,”

The teen merely shugged. “I’m not saying you have to do something even more bizarre than that and get _banned_ from VidCon on your first year, though it would be pretty awesome,” Miles barked out a laugh at the thought, earning an eyeroll from his best friend. “What I’m saying is, _don’t be boring_ ,”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the older one mumbled in mock annoyance at the obviousness of his friend’s advice. “What was the other question?” He inquired.

Miles drowned down a gulp of water before looking at his friend straight in the eyes and deadpanning “What are you planning to do when you finally meet Wade Wilson?”

“I don’t have the faintest idea,” Peter admitted. If he was being completely honest, he hadn’t thought that much about it. The news of actually going to VidCon had him way more stroked than the possibility of meeting the guy who was making it happen in the flesh; which, now he pondered about it, seemed more likely than ever. “I guess saying hello, for starters,” he added in a light tone.

Strangely, he didn’t feel nervous about it. He figured he should have, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Maybe it had to do with the fact that after being reached out by Wade himself once, it all seemed more real and somehow simpler. The whole conversation hadn’t been particularly awkward, save for him not realizing who the caller was due to not being fully awake yet.

So, really, what was the worst thing that could happen? He would meet the guy, thank him again, probably several times for the things he had done for him without even being asked to do so; and that would be pretty much it. Maybe they would hang out and talk later, or maybe they wouldn’t. But Peter found out that although he would definitely rather having the first one happening, he guessed he wouldn’t mind if it didn’t. He had never been one for pushing on friendships, he’d always preferred having them just happen naturally.

Either way, he did realize then that there was one thing he had been certain even if he hadn’t dwelled on it at all. He was looking forward to it, even if he hadn’t bothered on thinking about how it would go.

Maybe because the greater side of him had accepted if the guy was nearly as nice as he presented himself to be, or as he had been through that brief telephone conversation that they had had, it would all turn okay.

When he turned towards Miles, he was giving him a skeptical look. “You do realize you have to thank him big time, don’t you?” He asked. “I don’t care what the guy said, you sort of _do_ owe him,”

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but he promptly closed it when something about Miles’ words caught his attention, and he spent long seconds just staring at him through narrowed eyes before saying anything again.

“How do you know what he said? I never told you how that conversation actually went,” he demanded cautiously.

He knew he should have seen it coming when Miles said, “What are you talking about? It’s all on video. It was live streamed and then he put it on his channel the morning after, too,”

"He did _what?_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another early update, who would have though? Gee, I wonder how this is gonna affect my grades.
> 
> (JK, for once in my life, apparently, I don't have exams)
> 
> I seriously can't ever thank you enough for all of your kudos and comments, even if I don't answer all of them know that I read every single one of them and it means the world to me. For real guys, your love is fueling this story, I never thought it would get such a possitive response.
> 
> I know I always say this, but it's still true so here it goes: feel totally free to be nosy and come talk to me on [tumblr](http://happy-little-ghost.tumblr.com) about literally anything, or leaving brutally honest comments about what you think of this story. 
> 
> Till the next update!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Text messages and an Interview

The device buzzed inside his jacket’s inner pocket, vibrating against his chest and startling him, prompting him to jump a little at the sensation and instinctively reach out for his phone as he finished delivering the answer to the question the man in front of him had asked.

“I’m sorry, hold up a sec,” he was quick to add as he pulled it out and he quickly scanned the notification in his locked screen.

“It’s all good, man,” replied the alluded, shrugging the apology off with a hand gesture and smiling. He truly didn’t seem to mind, his body language conveying nothing but the image of a relaxed person, lying against the back of his chair with his hands resting behind his head; Wade was wary to believe that.

He doubted any radio host would be fine with having their guest being distracted in the middle of an interview, and this guy - some red headed punk with a weird yet pleasing sense of humor named Remy, if he recalled correctly- just wasn’t going to be the exception, even if he managed to look like it.

He did his best to unlock the phone and read the message as quickly as possible when he noticed that the sender had been Vanessa. Had it been anyone else he would have disregarded it and put the phone away without hesitation, not wanting to bother the interviewer more than what he considered necessarily with his inevitable smartass answers; but since they had spoken not even two hours earlier that day and she had known he was going to be busy, he couldn’t help but assume it was something important.

At least that’s what he told himself in that moment. He knew damn well he was unable to simply ignore his friend.

Well, except when he was on a video game binge; then a literal zombie apocalypse could take place, the world could be invaded by blood sucking vampire-aliens, or Vanessa could have called him twenty seven times, and he knew he wouldn’t have given a flying fuck about it.

From: Dollface  
To: Me  
2:35 PM  
I know ur in the middle of an intrvw BUT i just remembred have you talked with Snark yet?

Wade’s mouth had already curled in a smile that Remy had definitely noticed, but it was only when he snorted at the nickname, the sound caught most likely by the microphone set in front of him, that the host decided to comment on it. The boy let out a teasing whistle before speaking. “Wow, look at _that_ smile. Who’s got you looking at your phone like it’s a golden retriever puppy, Pool?”

Wade shook his head and let out a chuckle at that, fully aware that at least one of the cameras set on the studio had caught him, typing a response in record time before looking back up to the other person in the room and answering confidently.

From: Me  
To: Dollface  
2:37 PM  
Tell me that wasn’t a typo. And No.

“Actually, it’s the _Ghost of the VidCon Past_ reminding me not to fuck it up again so bad that get forever vanished from the event this year,” his phone buzzed again in his hand before he could even set it on the table in front of him. He snatched a glance at it and promptly gave the interviewer a nervous smile, to which he only replied arching an incredulous eyebrow.

“Well, they seem to be really worried about you,”

Wade took Remy’s nod as he talked as permission to carry on and unlock his phone once again, but in return he kept speaking instead of going quiet like he had with the first text. “I wouldn’t say she’s worried, it’s more like she’s gonna kick me in the head if it does happen,” he confessed. “Vanessa has a strange way of looking after me,”

From: Dollface  
To: Me  
2:38 PM  
I’m offended you even thought that

Remy’s features twisted into a bemused expression. “Vanessa as in _Vanessa Carlysle_?”

Wade nodded before saying “Between you and me, and everyone listening actually, I don’t really know that many Vanessa's,” Remy let out a small laugh and Wade felt oddly pleased about it. “And thank goodness for that. I mean, she’s one of a kind,” he added, his tone barely on the edge of joking as he tried to make it sound serious. “But I don’t know how I’d survive if there were two of them. All that tough love would definitely kill me,”

His phone buzzed once again, this time being unlocked he was able to read it in that exact moment. He wasn’t surprised to see it was her again, but the content of the message did most certainly amuse him.

From: Dollface  
To: Me  
2:40 PM  
Srsly? If it wasn’t for me u wouldn’t even be able to get dressed in the mornings

Wade felt his grin widen and shook his head at that, letting out a sight as Remy spoke once again. “You can say anything you want, but that girl sure has a way to catch your attention,” and there it was, that tone of voice that seemed to be teasing but underneath it there was the undenying hostility of feeling bothered. However, Wade did reckon that it didn’t came as harsh from Remy as he would have expected, and he took it as a good sign. The host wasn’t angry, he was simply trying to do his job; but he did respect him enough to try to make a topic out of it instead of calling him out.

Wade shrugged, the smile on his face never faltering as he continued to talk. “She’s actually listening to the show, she’s only doing this to make me look bad,” the blond took a moment to adjust the headphones over his head as he kept going. “She knows I can’t ignore her, I just don’t have it in me. She’s my best friend,” he explained. “Unless I die in front of a screen with a controller in my hands -because yes, if you hadn’t figured out by now; I am, sadly, _that_ guy- ,” he looked at Remy straight in the eyes as the guy tried to hold back a laugh behind his hand and failed. “I’m convinced my last known words will probably be the last text I send her,”

“That’s so sweet,” the redhead said, a recording of a crowd going ‘ _d'aww_ ’ echoed through the headphones, thanks to a guy behind one big glass window controlling the special sound effects that were slipped through the broadcast. Wade made a face at the host, widening his smile impossibly, showing off all of his teeth and shutting his eyes tight, like a kid trying to hold their smile for a picture while facing the sun. “What would the text say?”

“That’s a little personal,” Wade deadpanned, not necessarily in a serious tone but making sure to clarify that was a line he wouldn’t cross, and by the way Remy held up his hands in defeat he was sure he had caught right on it. He did however, keep it lighter when he added “But knowing us, it would definitely be an inner joke,”

“You’re really close to her, I see,”

Wade nodded fondly. “And water is wet. It’s a universally known fact, I’m only messing with her. She’s awesome and I love her,” he stated. And right after he got closer to the mic and spoke loudly at it, averting his stare at the ceiling as if he was talking to some greater entity. “You hear that, Nessa?”

Wade noticed that Remy was staring at his phone right after that and he found that small detail hilarious, especially when exactly what he had been hoping that happened, did.

His phone buzzed one more time on the table.

“What does it say?” The host asked even before Wade had unlocked it, both of them holding their breath in anticipation without really being aware of it.

A second later Wade bursted out laughing, covering his face with his hand for a moment as he felt heat on his cheeks and he could tell he was turning red from the sudden fit, trying to hide himself from the camera lenses that would broadcast everything online later.

When he managed to calm down, he wiped off a tear from his left eye and stared at Remy while taking a deep breath, amused by his own attempt at not giving in and following suit with Wade’s laughter not knowing what had caused it in the first place.

“She, eh-” the blond exhaled the last few remains of laughter, letting it die down at last. “She told me to fuck off,”

Remy’s snort was memorable. “ _Marry her,_ ”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until later that Wade decided to turn off his phone and carry on with the interview after Remy had taken it to a music break and told him he wanted to ask him more serious questions.

Wade was happy to oblige, even if he knew he wasn’t going to be able keep things serious, even if he tried.

Call it what you want: a disorder, a conditioned habit, the fact that he was an asshole. As much as Wade knew he could engage a serious conversation when he wanted to, he also knew that after a while, his need to make some silly remark or joke and divert himself away from the topic would kick in like a pavlovian reflex.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he had started doing that, or why, or for what reason; he just knew that it was something he did when he was talking with strangers and it often bothered said strangers involved.

Sometimes it even happened when he was talking to his friends; _hell_ , more than once Vanessa had tried to take advantage of it switching topics mid chat when she didn’t feel like talking about something. But for some other reason he didn’t find it as hard to pull back and follow again the thread of the conversation then. Maybe it was because his friends were more or less used to him, or maybe it was because he didn’t feel nearly as uncomfortable and like he needed to prove that he was interesting to them.

So it always meant gathering all of his inner strength and forcing himself to focus. To steady himself on where he was and what he was doing, and confine himself within the walls of the room he was at, pretending he wasn’t perfectly aware of how the world kept spinning round and round and the universe moved relentlessly.

On the bright side, Remy’s friendly attitude -no matter how fake it might have been, Wade wasn’t gonna dwell on that right then- made it all just a little easier. The way he kept things casual and picked on Wade’s ravings as he was thoroughly interested in what he had to say, made him feel more at ease inside the studio.

Remy was far much younger than Wade, and he carried himself with a confidence worthy of a movie star from the golden age of cinema. He really seemed to know what he was doing even if the older one suspected he was way more naive than he let on; and Wade found his enthusiasm endearing. He knew there was a very high chance that the guy didn’t like him the slightest, which wouldn’t have been a surprise to him -he hardly ever hit it off with anyone he had maintained a conversation that had prolonged for over fifteen minutes-; but if that had been the case, Wade applauded how discrete he had been about it.

The song that had been playing came to a faded end on his headphones, and he mirrored the guy in front of him when he put them back on right before a red sign that read ‘On Air’ over the door lit up.

“Hello everybody! It’s Remy LeBeau here and we’re back on _Gambits_ ,” he greeted the audience cheerfully. “I doubt any of you had missed the first segment, but in case you have and you don’t know it -which is even weirder ‘cause this is all we’ve been talking about through the last week-” he stated, and Wade let out a small laugh he masked as a cough, earning him a smirk from the boy. “I'm in here with one of the great personalities of our era,”

“Dude,” he glared at Remy as if he was warning him.

Remy smirked as he kept going. “I’m in here with the man of the moment. This guy is living the dream, he’s made a career out of playing video games and making y’all laugh. You know him; you met him on YouTube, you’ve seen him on TV, and now you’re hearing him on this radio. You’ve stayed up late watching his videos, and you know that both your girlfriend and your gay lover has the hots for him,”

“Oh my God,” Wade rolled his eyes dramatically, letting his head fall back and sliding down the chair a little. “This is ridiculous,”

“The internet crowned him _King_ , and it has tried to convince us that he has died so many times in the last five years, that by now we’re sure he’s immortal,” the guy went on with his flamboyant introduction, and the blond had to admit that even if he was dreading every word that came out of the kid’s mouth, he had style. “Some call him a gamer, some call him a _legend_ , some say he’s a comedian-”

“Most people say I’m just an idiot,” Wade cut him off mindlessly.

“I know of one of my friends has referred to him as _Daddy_ ,” added the redhead.

“Now that’s just bullshit,” Wade chuckled.

“But here at Gambits we just call him by the name he gave himself,” Remy announced ceremoniously. “By the name the world knows him as besides _triple-double-ew_ , the impersonation of internet himself. We call him Wade Wilson, he’s the _Deadpool_!”

The older one bit his lip as a cheering recording overlapped the sound of the broadcast, remaining quiet for a couple of seconds before saying “Geez, you do know how to make a guy feel special,”

“I try my best,” the boy winked at him. He literally winked at him. “So Wade,” he proceeded in a more serious tone, and the blond nodded at him. “I’m just gonna go ahead and ask what everybody is dying to know: Vidcon is less than five days ahead, what have you got planned for us?”

Wade let out a relaxed sigh before answering. “If you’re expecting me to do something wilder than last year I’m sorry to disappoint you,”

The recording of a collective sad ‘ _oww_ ’ took place.

“For those who don’t remember what happened on last year’s VidCon,” Remy clarified, “this man right here interrupted several panels by starting random dance parties and managed to turn it into an actual rave by the end of the last day, all of this without anybody actually finding out it was him,”

Wade chuckled. “And when I got caught, I almost got kicked out for it!”

“Oh, come on. It was _fun_ ,” Remy insisted.

“It was!” The blond agreed. “But as fun as it was, and as much as I love getting on Tony Stark’s nerves; I’m not risking it this year,” he crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, a pleased smile on his face.

“Alright, but you do have something big planned out. Don’t you?”

“I do,” the man responded. “And I really hope it’s something people enjoy, but I’m stepping a notch down with my pranks for once. It’s not gonna be like the last couple of times, though. I can’t say much more other than that,”

Remy shrugged. “It’s okay, man. I personally think that the fact that you’re showing up is great, even when there were so many threats that you wouldn’t be around this year. VidCon just wouldn’t be the same without you,”

“ _Dude_ , it’s not like I’m the main attraction,” the older one argued. “There is gonna be a lot of other awesome Vloggers showing up this year too,”

“Well, I can’t say you’re wrong,” the host said. “The list of attendants this year was pretty impressive. We’ll have Vanessa Carlysle, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner… Even Natasha Romanoff is coming, although the _Black Widow’s Diary_ vlogs ended over a year ago,”

“I heard from a good source she’s got great news for us,” Wade commented, trying to keep it short and not giving any more details.

Remy hummed appreciatively, and Wade silently thanked him for it when he didn’t press upon it, because he knew he would spill if that happened. Instead, the boy went right back on track. “There are also some new names on the list that have been becoming popular lately. Like the Maximoff twins, Danny Rand, and Peter Parker,”

The mention of the last vlogger caused a smile to pull on the corner of Wade’s lips. He tried to play it cool by blurting something that had been on his mind for a while now. “Yeah, though there is a big amount of those newbies that won’t be able to come because of the whole new management issue,”

“Well it certainly isn’t something you had to worry about,” pointed out the younger one.

“It’s not, but I don’t think what happened was fair,” he said, pushing his body forward and resting his arms on the table, closer to the mic. “I mean, there is all of this talented people who have been waiting for the invite for years, and they finally get it just to realize they won’t be able to make it because some dude in a suit thought getting a bigger place for the amount of people they wanted to invite was more important than actually _getting them there_. Now we have this big ass convention center where over a third of the rooms won’t even be used because the people meant to use them won’t _be_ there,”

“So, I take it you’re pissed,” Remy summed up.

Wade shrugged. “Wouldn’t you be? I think it goes against what VidCon stood for in the first place. The whole point of it was bringing vloggers together and closer to the people who liked what we do. Now it seems like it’s all about earning a spot and proving that you’re popular enough to financially be able to keep it, and that’s just sad,”

“Because most youtubers started off being broke?” Asked the interviewer with a teasing smile.

“Because all youtubers are _underdogs_ ,” bursted the blond. “Ask any of of us. We’re the weird kids, the ones that got bullied at school, the ones that had social anxiety and that sat alone at lunch because maybe we had a friend or two but we were never ‘cool’. We’re the kids that got made fun of, the ones that never got invited to parties and if our friends dragged us to one -because they were better at socializing than we would ever be- we stood on a corner silently judging everyone sipping on warm beer. We’re the kids that thought too fucking much and spoke too little. It’s bullshit because now you gotta fit a certain standard and that’s just stupid, because we never did, we _suck_ at it. And guess what? That's why so many people relates to us,”

The redhead stared at Wade for a moment with an amused smile, eyebrows curved in surprise. The silence stretched between them long enough that Wade let go of a breath he didn’t knew he had been holding back, Remy’s conflicted expression causing him to laugh when he simply didn’t respond anything.

“That was deep,” he finally let out, shaking his head in disbelief.

At that Wade felt his cheeks heat up, but he didn’t do anything to hide it other than saying “Don’t get too excited, it’s not gonna happen again anytime soon,”

The interviewer snorted. “Is that the reason why you decided to get Peter Parker when he said he wasn’t going? Because you wanted to make a statement on how it wasn’t fair? Because, you know, you say that and I’m not saying I don’t believe you; but you, at this point of your life at least, you don’t really look like an underdog. But this other guy definitely does. I mean, just look at him,”

Wade shook his head, bemused by Remy’s observation. “Not really,”

“Why then?”

Wade blinked at him as if what the younger one had said didn’t make any sense. And it was because to him, it didn’t. “Because I _wanted to_? Because I really thought the guy deserved to be there and me and some other million and a half people want him to be there?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah!” Wade insisted. “Didn’t you see the phone call video?”

“Oh, I did. And let me tell you, your face has been all over my group chats as reaction images, it’s _hilarious_ ,” Remy clarified. “I was just confirming,”

“Well, it is the truth,” said the blond. “I had been following the guy for a long time, and he’s really talented. He had to be there, I just lended a hand because I could,”

“How long have you been following him?”

Wade was confused by the question that had come completely out of the blue, but he did answer truthfully. “A little over a year, maybe,”

Remy seemed to think it through before continuing. “And when you say he’s really talented you’re talking about him as a comedian? Because I think right now, coming from you; that _is_ one hell of a compliment, I have to agree with what the guy said. You see him going far like you did?”

“Oh,” the other muttered, feeling the muscles of his frown relax as he understood where this was all headed, not having noticed he had been frowning earlier. “I wasn’t just talking about the guy being funny, which is true, and I still don’t get why so many people find it so important coming from me. I mean, I find a lot of stuff funny; even things that really _shouldn’t_ be considered that way. I admit I have a pretty _weird_ sense of humor,” he clarified. “I also think the guy is a really good musician, which is why I started using his covers on my videos. As for if I see him going places, I do. I really do, but in all honesty I think, and I hope, it’s music what takes him there. It’d be a waste if it didn’t. I mean, _fuck me_ if you don’t get anywhere with a voice like _that_ and playing that many instruments,” Wade spoke quickly, trying his hardest to make his words make sense and convey exactly what he was thinking.

“You seem really invested in his musical career,” Remy pointed out.

Wade fought off the blush that was attempting to creep on his cheeks, hotter and darker on his skin than the one the host had brought on before with the comment and that he had taken as a compliment. “I’d say I’m really invested in _music_ , period,”

“Does that mean there is a chance of you venturing on something like it?”

Wade snorted at the question before the other one had even finished. “No, there is _no way in hell_ ,”

Remy held up his hands defensively. “You know what they say, never say never,”

“I’d say this is one of the few times you can _always_ say never,” the blonde shot back. “Don’t get me wrong, I love music. It’s definitely something important in my life, maybe more so than I let on. But I’m seriously hopeless. I mean, yeah, can read music sheets and I took piano lessons when I was like seven. But just because I _know_ how to play an instrument doesn’t mean that I _can_. And, yeah, I’m singing twenty-four-seven at my home but that doesn’t mean I want people to hear me,”

“So, no ‘ _Deadpool: The Musical'_?” Teased the redhead.

Wade rolled his eyes. “At least not with me in it,”

Remy seemed pleased with that answer. “You know, speaking of music and trying out new things; I take it you’ve heard the news about the Mercs for Money.”

Wade shifted in his seat, crossing his legs and getting hold of his knee as he got comfortable. “I did, they’re dropping a new album by December,”

Remy nodded before he kept going, “You’re friends with some of the band members, am I right?”

“Well, at this point I’d like to _think_ I’m friends with all of them,” he explained, his mind wandering for a moment back to the time he had settled in California two years prior and he had stumbled upon what once had been the beginnings of what would later become one of the most acclaimed bands on America, back when it had been just Ellie Phimister and Neena Thurman with their bass and guitar, and a bunch of random dudes that changed from one week to the other on the rest of the instruments, practicing on Neena’s garage. It hadn’t been until he moved that they had found the rest of their definite members: Kenneth Hale on the drums, Aaron Stack on the other guitar, and Andy ‘ _Monkey_ ’ Macaque on the keys. “But I’m still not sure about Monkey, I think he’s still mad at me because I sent him a truck full of bananas for his birthday,”

Remy hummed a laugh. “Okay, so you are. What I’ve been meaning to ask you is if there is any chance that this rumour that’s been going around is true,”

“What rumour? And why does it involve the Mercs?” The man asked puzzled. “Are they saying that I ow-dee’d _again_ while hanging out with them? Cause, you know, I’m feeling pretty alive today,”

Remy rolled his eyes at him this time. “There is this rumour that’s been going around for awhile saying that they were planning on having you on their next music video,”

Wade’s expression shifted in a split second from a smug smirk to eyes open wide and eyebrows rising high in utter disbelief, his jaw dropped slightly and he found himself at loss of words.

“I take it you didn’t know,”

“That’s a bit of an _understatement_ ,” Wade blurted. “How long has this been going on?”

“Well actually, it started with something Ellie Phimister said _here_ a couple of weeks ago,” the boy provided. “Let’s hear it,”

And just like that, a clear recording of a familiar voice flooded his ears as it flowed from the gigantic headphones.

“ _Wade Wilson is an idiot,_ ” ah yes, cold, sharp and insulting, that was Ellie. “ _But he has his moments, and he has helped us out a lot. He’s one of those people who’s there when you need them, and I think I speak for all of us when I say he’s been there for us, even if it wasn’t physically. Right now it’s not much like that anymore, though,_ ” through the coldness of her tone, Wade noticed that sounded disappointed, and he would have been lying then if he said that it didn’t upset him a little.

The recording kept on going. “ _I’m not saying I wish he wasn’t where he is right now- who the fuck I’m kidding that’s exactly what I’m saying. Look, that guy is a bastard, okay? But he’s our bastard. I just, I really would have liked to have him around for longer, you know. Maybe even working with him. Right now we’re still friends, but it’s not like me or Neena can pick up the phone and go ‘Hey dude, we have this awesome idea for a music video and we want you there,’; and God, it’s frustrating, especially with this new tune we’ve been working on._

“ _Like, now he’s Wade Wilson, ‘_ King of the Asshats’ _or whatever; but it would be cool, you know. It’s really something we’d like to do,_ ” the recording came to a stop and Wade found himself smiling at the harsh words of that punk kid he hadn’t seen in way too long.

“What do you have to say about it?” Remy questioned.

Wade took a breath before saying anything. “I’m calling _bullshit_ on Ellie saying she or Neena can’t reach out to me. I bet they lost my number again,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, look who's been on a roll lately!
> 
> It's been a while since I wanted to write a chapter like this, despicting Wade doing what he does when he's not making videos and playing video games and the fact that he is actually a very well known persona (even if Peter completely ignored it). To be honest I didn't think it'd end up so long.
> 
> I know many people were expecting some sort of reaction from Peter over the live stream or the Video, but I guess you'll just have to wait until later to find out what he thinks about it (Muahahaha).
> 
> Though I am gonna give you all a hint: it won't affect on whether Peter goes or not to VidCon, the guy's already decided that he's going (and most importantly, I have decided that, I mean seriously I thought they would have met by now; I'm getting anxiety off my own story). It might affect the image he has of Wade though...
> 
> After this chapter it might take a while for me to update again since I have finals coming up, but worry not! You can always find me on [tumblr](http://happy-little-ghost.tumblr.com), and I'll be more than happy to talk about either this story or anything you want.
> 
> Thank you all for your wonderful coments and all of your kudos (and seriously kudos to some of you on your usernames, they really brighten up my day)!
> 
> Till the next update, and comment if you liked it!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected (?) meeting.

There are two kinds of fear. Rational and irrational.

To be scared of falling off a cliff while going hiking, or drowning in the sea because you swam a little too far and the current is pulling you, or even being murdered at the movies because some crazy guy brought a gun and decided it should be that way; though improbable, are somewhat rational fears.

It’s normal to feel threatened by the possibility of your life being at stake because of some awful twist of faith.

The fear Peter felt the moment he walked past the doors and inside the departure lounge did not fit in that category.

It was a dreading feeling that coiled up in his chest and send shivers down his spine as he stood in front of a glass wall facing the runway, watching a plane speed on and take off. It was only when it had risen up high enough that it had become a small blur in the sky that he gulped and let go of a breath he hadn’t noticed he had been holding, easing the burning sensation inside his lungs.

He found himself blinking fast as he made his way towards one of the numerous seats nearby the gate his own flight was supposed to be at. His vision had gone slightly blurry around the edges, and his head buzzed softly, turning down the murmur of people walking by and talking through their phones to their loved ones both announcing their arrivals and saying their goodbyes.

The blue cushion gave in under his weight when he propped himself down; taking deep breaths to steady himself as he reached for his backpack, the only hand luggage he was carrying with him. He placed it on his thighs and focused on looking for his phone in the depths of it, trying his hardest to distract himself from the funny feeling on the back of his neck and the fact that his hands were shaking.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought this would happen. He knew that, being that this would be the first time he would get on a plane, there was a big chance he’d get anxious as the days of the departure came closer. He had talked about it with his friends; mainly with Gwen, who had become familiar with the situation that she experienced twice a year whenever she came back to visit her family and friends back home. He had investigated as much as he could about the things that worried him, from checking travelers’ sites to the basic mechanics of the way planes worked.

He had thought he would get nervous, but he hadn’t. Not until he had faced the reality and realized, as he checked his ticket once more, that he was merely an hour away from boarding.

He knew it was an irrational fear. That the odds of a plane’s system failing were minimal, and that within that possibility, the odds of it crashing were even fewer; and even in that scenario, the odds of dying were ridiculously little. One in eleven million to be more precise.

There was one in _two million_ chances of falling of the bed and dying.

There was one in _six hundred eighty-five thousand_ chances of drowning in a bathtub.

There was one in _one hundred thirty six thousand and eleven_ chances of get stricken and dying by a lightning.

Yet, Peter couldn’t shake the thought of that tiny possibility happening to him. He finally got a hold of his phone and he unlocked it rapidly, typing in a message to his youngest friend as he desperately tried not to panic when illogical images flashed through his mind.

From: Me  
To: Miles  
6:35 PM  
Isit normal to feel lik e you’r dying even before you’re actually INSIDe the plane??

He gripped the device tight in his hand after he had locked it again, and he made an effort to sit still and look around in search for some sort of distraction in his surroundings as he waited for a reply. Miles had family in Florida, and he and his mother had visited them a couple of years ago for christmas, so he was also somewhat familiar with this whole ordeal too.

His eyes wandered around the lounge impatiently, his sight shifting behind his glasses from a couple cuddled up and half asleep in the seats in front of him, to a mother trying to get a stuck pack of m&m’s out of a vending machine for her kids in the other end of the room, to a group of flight attendants walking and talking together like a flock of birds out of formation from one gate to the other, to an elder man struggling with the zipper of his luggage.

When the device vibrated in his hand a minute later, it startled him to the point where he almost threw it against the floor as if it had electrocuted him.

From: Miles  
To: Me  
6:37 PM  
Ur gonna be fine. Chill out.

Well, that was helpful. He rolled his eyes and didn’t even think of answering, opting for looking for his earbuds inside his pockets and thinking that maybe some music would make the wait a little less stressful.

Setting his phone on his thigh, he settled for the familiar and yet unbearable task of untangling the mess of cables that had surged from his jeans, his fingers still trembling lightly, but much less than they had a moment ago.

Maybe he should have tried to contact Wade again and convince him to get him a bus ticket instead of a plane one. After all, forty-eight hours inside of a road vehicle couldn’t be that bad, _right_?

But it was a little too late for that now, as for Vidcon took place the following day and the whole purpose of the six-and-a-half hour flight was to get him to San Francisco that same night, so that with the three hour difference he would have more than enough time to sleep on an actual bed before the event.

It wasn’t a bad plan. Hell, it was a great plan. Peter just hadn’t thought he’d be as terrified as he was feeling then.

He had been so caught up in his irrational musings, he barely noticed the moment another body had approached his own, taking a seat merely a chair away from him. Her voice, however, somehow managed to pull him out of his trance at some point; and before he could understand how, or even why in the first place, he realized he was listening to the woman attentively.

Her voice wasn’t particularly special. Maybe it had more to do with the things she was blurting at her phone shamelessly, and the confidence in her tone as she pronounced:

“I just hate it. Every time. And it’s always a _guy_ registering me, random calling aside _my ass_. I swear to God, next time I’m just gonna strip down if front of them, I’d rather that than having to put up with another pervert in blue trying to crop a feel of my boobs,”

Peter had to bite his lips to help himself from letting out a laugh at her blunt statement. The woman paused for a moment as whoever was on the other end of the line talked back, but she was quickly again speaking her mind.

“Yes, honey. I know,” she sighed. “Who does a bitch have to fight to get some respect around here?”

Whoever ‘ _honey_ ’ was, was cut off again before they could reply.

“It was a rhetorical question,” the annoyance in her voice was notorious. She started back again a second later on a different topic, apparently. “How was your flight, baby? Did you get there safe and sound?”

The person on the other side of the line took his time to answer, but Peter couldn’t hear anything but a murmur in that crowded waiting lounge. Cautiously, he decided to take a chance and look out of the corner of his eye at the woman on his right. Just a peek, he thought, enough to see what she looked like, that was all.

She had long, wavy hair falling over her shoulders like a jet black waterfall and chocolate eyes framed by long, likely fake eyelashes. Her plump lips were curved in a dark purple matte smile, high cheeks softly blushed. She was dressed soberly in high waisted dark jeans, a cropped red sweater and an overcoat she left open to leave her outfit in display. She was pretty, and young. Mid-twenties, if he had to guess.

“So I take it you haven’t set your room on fire, yet,” she said, laughing softly. “It was two times!” She yelled accusatively at her phone after a small pause.

“Hey, have you talked to Princess yet?” She asked casually right after. Peter still hadn’t taken his eyes away from her, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about it. There was something so calming and amusing about watching this stranger have such a lively conversation. In the way that she seemed to purposefully draw attention towards her without really trying, and he could only oblige like every other person that walked by and whose stare caught her. “You can’t postpone it forever, darling. He’s only gonna get grumpier,”

Whatever ‘ _darling_ ’ had responded, it caused the lady’s face to contort into an offended shock expression, and it was met with a “Fuck you!” On her end.

Peter thought she would hang up afterwards, but strangely, she didn’t. Instead she started shouting.

“You know what? _You_ are even worse. You’re a whiny little brat when you don’t get what you want. I, at least, am flexible!” The boy felt warmth taking over his cheeks in second hand embarrassment at the woman’s sudden outburst, an impending need to turn away as he noticed that, on the other hand, strangers seemed to be turning in her direction.

The woman remained quiet for a couple of seconds and rolled her eyes tiredly before saying, “You know, that’s a _terrible_ joke,” and letting out a sigh. “I hate you,” she mumbled, running a hand through her hair. “No, _I do_. I actually do,

“Seriously though, talk to the Skank,” she pleaded. “It’s the least you can do, doofus. He’s gonna be onto you the whole weekend otherwise,” Peter watched as she bit her lower lip listening to the caller’s reply.

At last she let out a laugh and said. “You better, I’m kicking your ass otherwise, and you know I damn can,”

Something in the warmth of her voice, and the way her smile widened lovingly caused the boy to break a smile on his own accord, moved by such a simple gesture that conveyed so much tenderness and that he silently wished the person on the other end of her call could have seen with their own eyes.

His stare drifted back to the earbuds in his hands, noticing that through the course of the lady’s conversation, he had finally untangled them completely. But right then, he didn’t feel like listening to any of the songs stored in his musical library, he doubted anything could sound as sweet as the voice of that stranger talking to whoever it was clear, she loved.

So he didn’t miss it when her voice faded into silence out of the blue, and confused, he turned back again on her direction hoping to find some sort of explanation.

He was not expecting to find those chocolate eyes staring back right at him, brows curved softly in surprise.

She had caught him. “Sorry,” he mumbled, just as about she blurted out:

“Holy _crap_ ,”

It was Peter’s turn then to act surprised at her reaction, especially when she lifted up a finger at him before he could say anything and she spoke right at her phone.

“He’s here,” she mumbled. A pause. “You know exactly who I’m talking about,”

Peter’s jaw hung open in anticipation, but his brow furrowed as he continued to listen to what the girl was saying.

“I mean, he’s here. He’s literally _sitting in front of me_ ,” her eyes opened a little wider. “I’m sure, honey. He wears glasses sometimes, right?”

Peter blinked slowly, completely taken aback by the stranger’s behavior. He closed his mouth and nearly flinched when the lady lunged forward, sitting right next to him, and grabbed his right hand, turning it around so that his palm was facing up.

“Lifeline on his wrist. It’s him,” she announced. This close, Peter could hear the response from her phone.

“Please tell me you’re not checking him like the police did to you,” the voice was muffled and barely noticeable, but it was there, and it sounded exasperated.

“Of course not,” said the woman, her eyes looking aside and her tone turning accusatory when she demanded, “Please tell me you didn’t have to do with this,”

“Uh, I-” Peter tried to intervene, but he quickly found himself being muffled by the lady’s manicured hand.

There was no answer from the other end of the line.

“Honey?” The woman asked, quite threateningly.

“I didn’t do it!” The voice from the phone wailed. “I _swear_!”

The woman rolled her eyes at that as she took in a deep breath, only to sigh exasperatedly. “I’m so _killing_ you for this,”

Peter couldn’t hear whatever answer ‘ _honey_ ’ would have said to that, because the woman promptly jerked the device away from her face and hanged up, while all he could do was watch quietly.

Without pulling back her hand so that he could speak, she threw her head back and let out a groan. She dropped her hand as she exhaled and looked back at the boy in front of her again, now with an amused smirk.

“You were listening, _why_?” She deadpanned.

Peter took a moment to articulate his answer at the suddenness of the question, wondering why was it that he felt compelled to respond even though he really wanted to ask what the hell had just happened.

“I, uh,” he muttered. “I was trying to get distracted,”

Her eyes narrowed, her smile turned somehow softer. “Did it work?”

Peter found himself nodding after a moment. His eyes casted downwards, unable to hold her stare for too long. “Yeah. Uh, thanks,”

The lady shrugged one shoulder and shifted in her seat, turning her whole body towards him and resting her head on her hand, her elbow propped on the back of the seat. “Are you nervous about the flight?”

Peter gave her a nervous smile before he could say anything. “I know it’s stupid, okay? And I know it’s one chance in eleven million, and that this things are supposed to be super safe but still…”

“First flight, isn’t it?”

Peter just nodded. It wasn’t like he could tell this complete stranger that he knew exactly why he was feeling so fidgety. He couldn’t just point out that his parents had been that one. And it was okay, because he was two when it happened so he didn’t remember it; but still, with his luck, everything was possible. Especially when things had been going so nice. His subconscious knew that there had to be a catch to all of this.

He didn’t have to. She never asked.

She did say, however. “Look, kid. It’s not gonna crash. I’m making sure of it, I have an ass to kick as soon as we get to San Francisco, and it _is_ happening,”

At that Peter chuckled, and seeing the chance,he decided to dive right in. “About that, what did just happen two minutes ago?”

“Right!” The woman exclaimed as if she had just remembered something extremely important. She held out her hand friendly at Peter and looked at him expectantly until he grabbed it and shook it. “Vanessa Carlysle, the pleasure is yours,”

“Clearly,” Peter snorted. He shook her hand a little more firmly and he opened his mouth again. “Peter-”

“ _Parker_ ,” she finished for him. “I know,”

“Oh,” Peter let go of her hand, feeling the blood rushing to his face almost immediately when he finally saw the pieces fall into place right in front of him. Oh, so that’s what had happened. She had recognized him, that’s why she had reacted that way.

Peter couldn’t say that it had been normal, after all, he still wasn’t used to people recognizing him. It had only happened twice. For all it was worth, her reaction could have been completely understandable.

“ _Oh_ ,” the woman -Vanessa- repeated, a devilish smirk on her lips. She let out a small laugh and she reached out to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I gotta tell you, you look way nerdier in person,”

Peter decided to take upon that as a compliment, merely smiling in response as he grabbed her hand and pushed it aside. “Who was it that you were talking to on the phone?” He questioned, suddenly curious as for the things she had said to them in particular.

“That was my best friend,” she replied nonchalantly.

One of Peter’s eyebrows quirked at that. After all of the cheesy pet names the girl had said, he found that hard to believe. “Didn’t sound like your best friend,”

Vanessa crossed her arms and looked at him with a diverted expression. “Well, he _is_.” After Peter’s eyebrow only curved even higher, she just snorted before adding, “He’s also the guy who payed for your plane ticket,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Am I doing? I have finals!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phonecalls, phonecalls

If there was something Wade Wilson wasn’t acknowledged for, that was his patience.

It was often that people assumed that having to ‘wait for something’ wasn’t something he could manage to do. He would always be offered to come in right away, or to wait someplace else where he could entertain himself, or somebody would try to strike a conversation with him -clearly sent by someone else in an attempt to keep him distracted-. At least, that was how it always had been whenever he got invited to different kinds of meetings.

Whether it was a TV show producer, a radio host, a magazine editor, or even Tony “Vidcon Princess” Stark; people seemed to be terrified of the concept of keeping him still in one place. Wade didn’t quite understand why, but he wasn’t complaining either.

Sometimes it was simply inevitable. Sometimes he’d just have to sit outside of an office for nearly an hour before talking to whoever had wanted him to be there, because another more important meeting had come up five minutes after he walked through the doors and he’d have to be put on hold until it got worked out. Sometimes it would just happen and secretaries would look at him as if he was possessed and walk right past him, as if they were waiting for him to explode like some kind of bomb and blow the place without so much as a warning.

Maybe it had to do with his face.

Vanessa had pointed out more than once that he had a seriously murderous expression when he got pensive. Maybe that, plus the fact that he whenever he had to wait for someone he started playing with the silver medallion that hung from his neck, dragging it slowly through the chain in a reiterative motion that could be considered somewhat creepy after a while; plus the fact he was six foot two and badly scarred, made people just a little nervous.

Maybe people thought he was going to jump at their necks, or yell at them, or throw a tantrum and start breaking things for no apparent reason.

But Wade could be ridiculously patient when he wanted to, or when he had no other choice. At least as long as it didn’t involve getting the results of medical procedures.

So there he was, waiting for a conceited midget that had bugged him for nearly a year, threatened to ban him forever from an event he had made famous in the first place, and who had made clear on several occasions through the years they had known each other that he couldn’t stand him; to talk about something apparently extremely important and that Wade had been decidedly putting off for weeks.

Part of him suspected that having him waiting was intended to be some sort of payback, but alas, Wade couldn’t have cared less. There were much worse things that demanded patience than a prick like Stark, and he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying himself a little.

In a way, it was hilarious to notice the way other people stared at him, their frowns deepening and growing more and more worried as the minutes passed.

He was seconds away from scaring the living hell out of the next person who walked through the corridor he was at, yelling at anyone as if he had just woken up from a nightmare, when his phone started buzzing and ringing a familiar tune in his pocket.

He pulled it out and answered straight away, knowing the first thing he’d hear as he got it to his ear would be Vanessa’s tired groan.

He laughed. “I’ll take it that you made it to ess-eff-oh in one piece,”

“Six and a half hours and I couldn’t sleep for a single one of them,” complained his friend with a sigh. “At least I had good company,”

“Did you, now?” The blond asked teasingly, knowing that Vanessa was way more sociable than he had ever been around complete strangers.

“You would know, I sat all the way next to _star-boy_ ,” she explained, her tone a little too exhausted to sound actually annoyed, but even then Wade could tell. “I’m gonna kick your ass, why did you do that?”

Wade shook his head, even though his friend clearly couldn’t see him. “Nessa, I seriously had _nothing_ to do with that,” he said, trying to sound convincing and fearing she wouldn’t believe him.

It was the truth. He honestly hadn’t known they’d be on the same flight until he had gotten that call from her hours earlier. He had simply looked up online for tickets for a flight on that day and he had clicked on the first good offer he could find. But the thing was, what were the odds of something like that happening? Out of all the companies that had planes, out of all the flights from JFK to SFO on that particular friday, it was just a little too weird to be just a coincidence even if that was exactly what it was.

So he wasn’t all that surprised or angry when Nessa’s response was sarcastic. “Oh, yeah and I’m the queen of France, Wilson,”

“Eh,” Wade just snorted and rolled his eyes; convincing her would be tough, especially at that moment, when she had just hopped off the plane and while she had a raging jet-lag. A grin split his face before he talked back in french, for the sole purpose of messing with her. _“Mais tu es plus belle que toutes les autres reines*,”_

There was a long pause on Vanessa’s end, during which Wade heard only the sound of her breathing before she sighed and talked again in a really quiet voice. “I didn’t get any of that. I’m too tired honey, don’t get fancy on me,”

“Sorry,” he murmured, half heartedly. “Are you at the hotel already?” He asked a moment later.

His friend hummed negatively. “We just got off from the plane, I’m still at the airport. I was actually calling to see if you could come pick me up? I’m sure Parker could use a ride too,” she added the last part in a cheeky tone.

“Fuck,” Wade sighed in response, feeling the weight of a hundred bricks being dropped on his back, as he had never hated more than ever to be kept waiting like Tony had if he had known he’d be missing seeing her and possibly the boy because of it.

“What is it?” The woman asked from the other end.

“I can’t,” Wade mumbled, running a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I’m at the princess’ tower, he’s been keeping me here for an hour and I still haven’t talked to him,”

“I hate to be the one who says this but…” He heard Vanessa chuckle before the inevitable words came past the speaker. “I told you so,”

“Yes, I know you told me so,” he blurted, annoyed and foremost angry. “It isn’t helping,”

It wasn’t fair. He had only been a prick to Stark because he had been one to him first. It was supposed to be karmatic. He had no right to do this to him. He didn’t know how fast his heart had beaten when Vanessa had pronounced those words that confirmed that it was, indeed, the one person they (he) had been talking about that whole (three) week(s) sitting in front of her, or how god forsakenly happy he had gotten when twenty minutes later Vanessa had sent him a text before they boarded telling him that the boy had been incredibly nice to her and that she liked him already. Of course he didn’t know and he sure as hell didn’t care if he told him he was missing the opportunity to meet someone he was unbelievably thrilled to see face to face and that it was something he had been waiting for for so long, even if it made him anxious, and he was going to have to postpone it _again_.

“Honey, life ain’t fair and you know it,” Vanessa giggled at his misery, again, as he mustered all that was going through his head.

“I _hate_ this,” Wade groaned, loud and clear, for everyone within a ten feet radio to hear. “And I’m sorry, again,”

“It’s okay,” the woman reassured him. “I guess I’ll have to keep Parker entertained myself. Shouldn’t be too hard,” she commented nonchalantly.

“ _Nessa_ ,” he called her seriously, cutting her off before she coud add anything in _that_ voice tone.

“What?” She said innocently. “I’m gonna give him a makeover, and we’re having a movie marathon,”

Wade laughed at her words, running a hand through his hair as he pictured his friend dragging the younger man into her bedroom just to have him sit in front of her and stuff his face with all of those products Vanessa carried everywhere with her. He knew she was more than capable to do that. “Okay, okay. Remember you made a vow to stay pure until marriage, young lady,”

He could clearly picture Nessa rolling her eyes as she said “Vows are meant to be broken, honey,”

“I thought _rules_ were,” pointed out the blond.

The girl snorted, not even annoyed. “Whatever, he did try to flirt with me, I think,”

“You _think_?” He asked teasingly.

“Everyone flirts with me, Wade,” she reasoned. “It wouldn’t have surprised me if he did. But don’t worry, I turned him down. You know I’m not one to steal one of my girls’ man,”

Wade just laughed again at the serious tone Vanessa had used when pronouncing those last words, not long after hearing her chuckle as well from the other side of the line.

He took a deep breath when he finally calmed down and he talked to her again. “Okay. Hey, I told the receptionist to leave you a spare key to my room,”

It took a while for Vanessa to answer, and Wade could hear clearly how she covered her phone and said something to someone else who had come close to her, before she was back at him saying “You know I’m not _that_ kind of girl,”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever, if you forget another pair of sunglasses on my room again like last year, I’m not mailing them back to New York this time,”

“You know they were _Versace_!” He could hear the pout in her voice.

“Just keep it, okay? You know you’re gonna end up using it anyway,” the blond insisted.

“Okay, but now it’s on you if I use it for my own evil purposes,” she warned.

“Go, go get drunk on my mini-bar, I know you want to,” Wade pronounced with a sigh, but the smile hadn’t dropped from his lips yet.

He’s certain he had a mini-heart attack when he heard Vanessa say “You hear that Pipsqueak? We’re getting hammered and it's gonna go on someone else’s bill!” And another voice answered with a holler and saying “ _I’m gonna drink to forget I almost died!_ ”

It was a voice he was certain he recognized.

But before he could say anything else, the elegant dark wood door beside him opened, a short man with dark hair and an old fashioned beard came out and looked straight at him. Wade noticed the way his expression went from a tight greeting smile to an unimpressed grimace, as his pupils traveled from his face to his phone.

The man made a rather impatient motion for him to go inside the room he had just erupted from, to which Wade only responded holding his hand up as he talked through his phone again.

“Nessa, I have to go,” he blurted a little too quick as he was getting up from his seat. “I’ll see you at the hotel, alright?”

“Okay,” Nessa answered right away. “Hey, also. When we meet, I need to talk to you about _something_ ,”

That last part paralyzed Wade for a moment. “Is it something bad?”

“It’s probably nothing.” Nessa chuckled a little nervously. “Go! Go talk to skank, and for once, try to behave,” she pleaded, only half-mockingly.

Wade hung up smiling, even as he felt shivers run down his spine at Nessa’s words. He wasn’t going to let Stark see through him.

He had to be patient for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * _But you're prettier than all the other queens_
> 
> * * *
> 
> Is it christmas coming early? Nope, it's just me procrastinating.
> 
> I'm sorry this one is so short!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what y'all have been waiting for.

There was no question on the subject that Anthony Edward Stark was an eccentric man.

As the worldwide known genius son of Howard A. Stark, he had not only lived up to his father’s legacy when he became the head of Stark Industries after his premature death and accomplished to ensure its spot as the number one american multimedia content producer for over a decade, but he had overcome said legacy as he had expanded the enterprise’s horizons venturing into foreign markets and quickly making the business go global, while creating several major charity foundations and making a use of his PhDs in physics, mechanical and electrical engineering contributing to national security programs with inventions of his own in the process; all of this before turning forty.

The man was a visionary, Wade knew he couldn’t argue with that. There had been a time when he had looked up to him with respect, what with the things he had done and his remarkable sense of humor in every interview and broadcast of public events he spoke at, not to mention his intelligence.

All it took was meeting the man once for him to change his mind.

Sure, it hadn’t been the best scenario, and maybe he did deserve Stark’s rant on how he shouldn’t have set off the fire alarms from the main lounge of the convention center that first VidCon was being held at by giving away colorful smoke flares to little kids and teens, and he shouldn’t have tripped the emergency exits to set off whipped cream bombs when opened because yes, it had been hilarious and delicious but it could have been dangerous if there had actually been a fire; but still, Stark had no right to treat him the way he did that day and still did ever since.

It was no secret among those familiar to VidCon that the relationship between the man behind the event and Wade Wilson was anything but friendly.

Since Stark seemed to refuse to address him as anything but as someone idiotic, and he had designated a special security group in charge of keeping an eye on him and his pranks during the convention; Wade had reasoned that it was only fair that he did everything in his power to make the billionaire mad and not getting caught, interacting with the man the least possible amount of time through the course of those three days.

Still every year it was the same, Stark demanded a meeting with him before the event just to give him a new lecture on what was expected from him regarding his behavior -or, more precisely, what was expected from him not to do this year-, which consisted on a long list of objects he wasn’t allowed to use in whichever prank he decided to pull, a long list that only grew with each passing convention.

This time, it had not been the exception.

Wade kept both of his earbuds inside his ears all the way back on the ride from Stark Tower II to his hotel, the volume turned up the loudest as he tried to forget the sound of Stark’s irritating voice tone whenever he talked to him and how he had had to put up with him for over two hours as he explained that with the new management and the changes they had imposed, the security regulations had changed as well and they were more strict than ever.

He knew it was all bullshit. He knew that the only reason why Stark still did that was because he wanted to remind him that he was, in a way, above him when it came to VidCon. He wanted to make a point out of how he was technically his boss, even when Wade wouldn’t accept it. It was all an act where one of them pretended to listen to the rules of a game they knew they wouldn’t play by.

Except that this time, Wade had listened because he did have to play by the rules. It was either that or never playing again.

And it was infuriating knowing that Stark had won and the only reason why it had happened was because of something that hadn’t even been his fault and yet, he had been the one everyone had turned to when it was time to point fingers.

He could deal with Stark’s stupid whining about how he was still paying for the clean up from last year’s mess with all that silly string and all the glitter bombs that seemed to erupt out of nowhere that was a bitch to clean up. But how could he possibly had known that those kids would manage to _throw down a wall_?

The fact that no one had gotten hurt there was a miracle, and now he had to be a saint to make sure Stark wouldn’t be kicking him out for real.

Because it didn’t matter that kids loved him, if their parents thought he was a threat, they wouldn’t be going to VidCon; and if kids weren’t going to VidCon, Stark wouldn’t be getting his money.

And if Stark wasn’t getting his money, he would be making his life hell.

And Wade hated how everything had turned out, but he had enough with dealing with Princess three days a year, thank you very much.

So he was doing his best, against his will, but his best nonetheless.

Still, he was pissed. About this whole ordeal, plus the fact he had missed picking up his best friend from the airport -a tradition they had going on for years now-, and the fact he had missed the chance of meeting Peter face to face earlier than he intended.

So it was no surprise that he didn’t take off his headphones even as he walked past the hotel doors and while he made his way up to his room in the top floor, always keeping the music at full volume and listening to songs that were meant to keep him distracted, with no avail.

It wasn’t until he got out of that fancy metal box and into his floor’s corridor that a particular song started blasting in his ears that he actually managed to relax a bit. Not quite as much as he was hoping to, since his shoulders were still squared and tense while he paced through the carpeted floor, but enough for him to focus on the upbeat rhythm and lyrics he adored and hum along as he got closer and closer to his room.

He fumbled his backpack in search for the magnetic key he had been given that evening when he had first arrived, the chorus of the tune approaching with his movements and encouraging him to find it faster.

All he was thinking about when he finally grasped it was on getting inside, plugging out his buds and letting the song blast from the speakers at full volume. He was thinking of making himself feel at home in that temporary place, at least for a couple of hours, and sing as loudly as he could to get rid off that awful dreading feeling that had been rotting his insides from the very first moment Stark had opened his mouth.

He swiped the card over the scanner and a little led green light blinked for a second beside the knob to let him know that the door had been unlocked. The song hit the chorus as he swung it open, and he didn’t even hesitate on singing out loud as he got inside.

“No seas tan cruel, no busques más pretextos,” He kicked the door closed, eyes shut and practically screaming in spanish, certainly out of tune. He slid off the strap from his left shoulder, throwing it somewhere aside as he just kept going, “No seas tan cruel, siempre seremos profugos los dos,*”

He hadn’t opened his eyes yet when he felt a sudden weight on his chest that pushed him a little out of balance and, had it not been for the door behind him stopping it, would have thrown him to the floor.

He recognized the feeling of slender arms clinging onto his neck, and a pair of legs wrapped tightly around his waist. When his eyelids finally fluttered open, he met a familiar pair of dark irises staring into his own and a bright smile behind matte plum lipstick.

“Doll Face!” His expression quickly mirrored hers, a genuine, happy grin taking over his features and causing small wrinkles to appear by the sides of his eyes while he yanked off his headphones with one hand and he wrapped his free arm around her waist to bring her closer in a tight embrace.

“Knucklehead!” Vanessa yelled back in a high pitched voice before hiding her face in the crook of the blond’s neck. “I missed you so much, I was starting to forget how much I like hugging you,” she added as Wade’s other arm came around her back, reaching for her hair and stroking it against her back.

“What are you doing here?” He asked when she pulled back and they were again face to face. “It’s so late! I thought I wouldn’t see you until tomorrow morning,”

A sticky sweet smile flashed on her face before she looked upwards innocently before saying “Well you said I could go have a drink or two from your minibar since I had a key to your room,” she giggled. “So we decided to come up here and empty your courtesy provided booze stash,”

“But that was hours ago,” said the man, rolling his eyes at her. “Wait, ‘ _we_ ’?” The older one asked a second later quirking an eyebrow, feeling the woman loosen up the hold of her legs and climb down from him, but he didn’t let go of her. When she was finally on ground level, standing just two inches shorter than him.

Wade leaned closer to press his lips against his friend’s forehead before pulling back and continue to stare at her with an inquiring look, ignoring the fact that she smelled like whiskey.

“Yes, _we_ ,” she nodded vigorously. “Me and Pipsqueak. He was so happy, he was so nervous when we were taking off. And landing. And when we had turbulence. It was his first flight! He really thought he was going to die,” she explained, her voice sounding deeply concerned.

He wanted to ask about the boy. He wanted to ask her more about her flight and how she had dealt with Peter, what they had talked about during those six and a half hours.

He wanted to ask what he had said when Nessa told him that she had asked him to pick them up but he told her he couldn’t. He wanted to know if he wanted to meet him as eagerly as he wanted to too.

He wanted to know for how long he had been there, and if he had been waiting with Vanessa for him to come back. He wanted to know if they had had fun while they hung out, and when he had decided to leave because it was getting late, since he was clearly nowhere to be seen in the room.

It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it was the right thing to ask her. Because Vanessa’s tone was much too sweet, and her eyes sparkling a little to glassy for her to be sober.

But above all, because no matter how anxious he could get over this sort of stranger, he had truly, deeply and wholeheartedly missed the brown eyed girl in front of him, and he wanted to savour knowing that in that moment they were existing together in the same room, close enough to touch and hear and see and it was simply surreal after spending so many months apart.

Wade snorted, his arms sliding from her frame a moment later. “And I’m sure you were there to hold his hand all the way here,"

“Aw, come on,” she teased, cocking her head to the side. “Don’t get jealous. I’m here now and you get to hold my hand for as long as you want to,” she added in a quiet voice, discretely reaching out and lacing their fingers.

The blond huffed a soft laugh and squeezed his friend’s hold, bringing it to his mouth and kissing her skin once again. “Alright, but I’m taking your word on that,” he murmured to the back of her hand, never looking away from her.

After Nessa dedicated him another affectionate smile at the gesture, he stepped around her and further into the hotel room that resembled more of a suite than a bedroom, dragging her with him.

His room was composed of three areas: a small bathroom on one end, a living room with a large sofa, a coffee table and an armchair; and an actual bedroom with a queen size bed on the other end. Plus a balcony which was accessible only from the living room area.

As the living room came to view, no longer blocked by his friend’s persona, he noticed the copious amount of tiny bottles scattered over the table. Most were completely empty and tossed aside together, some others were only half or a quarter full at most and they stood in another group alongside with the very few that were still full and that had remained seemingly untouched. The way there were organized wasn’t quite as surprising as how many of them there were. He was fairly certain that when he had first checked the small fridge in his room, there weren’t nearly as many.

He heard Vanessa giggle as she stood beside him, only then realizing that he had stopped on his tracks.

He took a deep breath before asking the obvious question she was expecting from him. “Honey, why are there so many bottles?”

“It was Pipsqueak’s idea,” she smiled brightly at him. “You see, we were hanging out with him, and we were so bored waiting for you to finally get here. And he was like, ‘you know what we should do? We should get all drinks from your mini bar, and my mini bar, and keep drinking until your friend comes back!’ So we did!” Vanessa shrugged. “Besides, it’s great because I’m paying for mine anyways, but you’re paying for the one in your room _and_ the one on his!”

Wade bit his lip to suppress a laugh. “Still there are too many bottles…” he pointed out.

“Oh, that’s because we also asked for room service to get a refill!” She made a gesture with her free hand, dangling the other one holding Wade’s. “It’s okay, right? You said I could get drunk on your stuff, and I told you we were going to,”

The older one merely shook his head amusedly after hearing his friend. “Exactly _how_ drunk are you?”

“I’m pretty good, you know?” Nessa shrugged before leaning on Wade so that their arms were touching, and their faces were closer once again. “I wasn’t the one who had most of that,” she pointed at the travel-size empty bottles on the table.

“So you let a poor kid get wasted?” The blond inquired.

Vanessa simply smiled. “He’s okay, baby. Pipsqueak seemed like could take a drink,”

Wade sighed in response, hoping the boy would be fine after facing Vanessa’s antics, whichever they had been this time. “Hey, you said you wanted to talk about something earlier,” he told her, walking again to get to the sofa and pulling the woman by her hand with him.

“I did,” she responded nonchalantly. “And before you ask, no. I’m not that drunk that I can’t talk about it,” she added in a slightly annoyed voice.

“Okay, let’s say I believe you,” Wade chuckled as Vanessa rolled her eyes at him.

But before Vanessa could open up her mouth and say anything, a soft click interrupted them as the bedroom door opened and a brown haired man came out of there, clutching a phone on his hand and squinting at it. “Hey Nessie, should we order room service? They say they have pizza here on their-”

Wade’s eyes shot open at the sight of the familiar boy standing one foot inside his suite’s living room. A deep blush that had certainly more to do with alcohol than the surprise of noticing a stranger in the room, had spread over his freckled cheeks; big brown eyes blinked at him for slow seconds before a cheeky, almost childish grin split his face when the guy said “You’re here! _Hi!_ ”

And just like that, the boy strolled in Wade’s direction until he stood directly in front of him, lunging forward with no hesitation and straight up hugging him.

Wade barely managed to blurt out a “Hey,” as he awkwardly tried to reciprocate the gesture with his left hand still holding Vanessa’s.

“It’s so good to finally meet you!” The boy said when he separated from the older one, looking at him still with a smile. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be coming at all, but Vanessa said you had to, because it’s your room, but still. I was nervous. But I was also nervous on the plane. And I was also nervous here, because what if you didn’t show up until the morning and I passed out and when you came back you found a total stranger you hadn’t even slept with on your bed? _Weird_. I mean maybe not that much but it’s still weird, and not in a funny way. Not like you are, you’re funny and I like that. Speaking of weird, oh my God you’re so tall. How _tall_ are you?”

Wade blinked slowly for a second as his mind processed the words that had come out of the brunet’s mouth rapidly and restless as well as the brown eyes that looked up to him and the amazed expression plastered in all of his features. He looked away from the boy to look at Vanessa, who was hopelessly trying, and failing, to conceal her giggling behind her free hand.

“Six-two,” he mumbled, focusing on the boy once again.

“That’s like six subway’s subs piled up vertically… plus inches!” The boy exclaimed. “Oh god, why are you two so tall? You’re like Jumbo Size,” he pointed out looking back and forth between him and Vanessa.

He laughed at the nonsense of the boy’s words. “Maybe you’re just really short. You’re like _Fun Size_ ,”

The boy’s brow furrowed at that last comment, and he cleared his throat before speaking again in a somewhat serious tone. “There are plenty of fun things about me but my size sure as _hell_ ain’t one of them,” he shut his eyes and shook his head before talking again. “ _I mean_ \- my height,” he clarified.

That still didn’t stop Vanessa from bursting into a giggle fit. Or Wade from wondering if it was all actually happening.

* * *

 

He wasn’t sure how they had ended up hanging out for two full hours in that living room just talking and laughing, with Vanessa sitting on his lap on the armchair and Peter taking all of the sofa as he layed on it, chugging down another small bottle every now and then until he dragged the coffee table away from his reach and he claimed that he was too tired to move and that it simply wasn’t worth it; but somehow they had, and Wade was way more worried on savoring the moment rather than pondering about something so meaningless.

The new yorkers made an extensive recap of the events that had taken place from the moment they had met on the boarding lounge at the airport, as full of details as any two drunken twenty-something year olds could. They talked about the typical complains of a continental flight that Vanessa had become familiar with and that had only fueled Peter’s anxiety through the trip. They talked about how Peter had begged Vanessa to stay close to him at the airport and how he had freaked out when they lost each other when looking for their baggage, about how he ended up doing a full round around the airport until he found her by the exit doors talking on the phone with him and how Vanessa insisted that she had told him to meet her there.

They talked about their ride on the cab and how they almost got lost _twice_ because none of them had written down the hotel address and Nessa’s phone had died before she could text Wade. They talked about finally finding the hotel after driving past it _twice_ and about rushing to Wade’s room believing he would be around and how Peter had refused to at first but then Vanessa had convinced him to get in.

They talked about the three and a half hours they had spent waiting for him, watching old reruns on Wade’s bedroom television and dozing off a little until Peter brought up what Nessa had said about Wade’s minibad and his own idea of drinking whatever remains of anxiety still lingered in his body away -apparently, there was still _a lot_ of anxiety inside of him-.

They talked about a drinking game they had come up with and that involved checking each other’s phone pictures and taking one, two or more shots whenever they found some specific pictures, such as screenshots, nudes, family or pets -and judging by the state they were at, it seemed like it had been a lost battle for the boy before he had known what he was getting himself into.

They talked about how at some point Peter had said something so funny that Vanessa had spit Johnny Walker all over his shirt, and how that was the reason why he was wearing one of Wade’s tees that Vanessa had grabbed from his suitcase in the bedroom, because hers would most certainly not fit him -and even if they did she wasn’t risking getting one of her lace tops forever ruined if he made her laugh again later-.

All Peter said regarding that matter was the he would have looked _fabulous_ in a lace top.

“So I told Miles...” said the brunet from his comfortable spot on the sofa, huffing a laugh. “Listen to me! This is important!” The boy yelled when he turned his head to look at him and he saw Vanessa kissing his cheek loudly before he chuckled. He nodded in his direction telling him to keep going, not without earning an eyeroll from him first. “I told Miles, ‘Bananas aren’t the exact opposites of eggs!’ And he said ‘Yes, they are! Bananas are _yellow_ on the outside and _white_ in the inside and eggs are _white_ on the outside and _yellow_ on the inside,’ and I could never eat either of them ever again the same way,”

Vanessa groaned and moved to get up from her spot, running a hand through his friend’s hair and messing it up before walking by the table, reaching out to grab a tiny bottle of peach flavored liquor and opening it. She took a sip and patted Peter’s sock clad feet, motioning him to move and leave some space for her to seet between the cushions.

“Okay, but think about this,” Wade lunged forward on his seat. “Apples are also banana’s opposites, because you eat the outside of the apple and you throw away the inside, but you throw away the outside of the banana and you eat the inside,” he explained with a grin.

Vanessa covered her face, sighing in exasperation when she noticed the way Peter opened his mouth incredibly wide and his eyebrows curved high.

“You’re right!” Exclaimed the younger one of the trio. “Alright. My mind is officially _blown_ ,”

“That’s the third time you say that within the hour, Pipsqueak,” commented the woman sitting by his feet, shoving his knee playfully. “I’d say you’re something else other than just mind blown by what this clown says,”

“Hey!”

“What? He is drunk, it’s not a lie!” Vanessa pointed out.

They both heard the younger one’s laughter before he spoke again. “Yeah, it’s not a lie. I’m drunk and it’s…” he trailed off as he held up his left hand to check on the watch on his wrist, holding it close to his face and squinting to try and see what it said. “It’s _five_ … it’s _quarter past_ five,” he added in a small, quiet voice.

“In the morning,” said Wade, trying to be somewhat helpful.

“Shoot,” groaned the brunet as he let his hand fall over his face, earning a curious glance from the other two. “ _Shoot_ ,” he repeated, louder, as if it made any difference.

“What is it?” Asked the woman beside him.

The boy sighed. “It’s too late, Aunt May is gonna _kill_ me,”

Wade looked at Nessa, feeling even more confused after hearing what the boy had said. She merely gave him a shrug before trying to talk to Peter once again. “Why would she do that?”

“Because my curfew starts at one a.m. ,” he explained, bringing his other hand to his face and rubbing his eyes, his tone hinting anger, but mostly disappointment. “I can’t get so late again, she must have worried so much,”

“ _Curfew_?” Asked the blond, getting an idea of what the younger one was talking about.

“Yes, _curfew_. It’s the a time at which such a restriction begins or is in effect; in this case, the restriction is about _me being out_ ,” Peter blurted out, sounding exhausted. “I need to get on a train, or a bus, like yesterday. Where is the nearest station from here with a route to Queens?” He looked up to Vanessa.

The woman bit her lips suppressing a smile and looked at his older friend; who was shamelessly grinning.

“Wait, you’re from _Queens_?” Asked Nessa just a second later.

Peter just nodded as he tried to sit himself up, holding himself to the back of the couch when he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. “You guys have some loose change?”

“I have some, but I don’t think it’s gonna help you that much,” said the blond one. “It’s a bit of a long way from San Francisco,”

Peter turned around to face him and looked at him with concern. “When… _when_ did we get to Frisco? _Why_ did you bring me here?”

“And that’s it. He’s _wasted_ ,” Wade let out a sigh that was half a snort. “He’s skateboarding down memory lane so fast he thinks he still has a curfew,”

“Wade, don’t be mean,” Vanessa dedicated him a glare.

“Can _somebody_ tell me why the heck I’m in Frisco?” Inquired the boy, rising up his voice above the other two.

“Did you forget the plan already?” Wade asked him, his voice going dead serious. “We’re trying to get fifty pounds of cocaine past the border. We’re out to Mexico tomorrow, get your shit together _Parker_ ,”

“ _What!?_ ” Yelled the brunet.

Vanessa threw a cushion straight at the older’s face as she screamed “ _Wade!_ ”

“I’m just messing with him!” The attacked insisted as more and more soft projectiles were aimed against him. “Calm down!”

The woman turned to Peter and placed a hand over his shoulder to offer him some sense of comfort as she talked to him. “Peter, honey. We got here yesterday together, remember?”

“No,”

Wade only laughed harder.

“Look, I just need someone to drive me home,” the boy insisted.

“Yeah, Vanessa, he needs someone who drives him home,” the blonde repeated just for the sake of pissing Vanessa off, and to make it even better, Peter unironically nodded.

“ _Nobody_ is driving _anyone_ _anywhere_!” Vanessa stated, looking separately at each of them. “ _You_ need to get some rest because you had too much to drink,” she explained to Peter. “And _you_ need to stop trying to take advantage of him while he’s like this!” She accused her friend.

“I’m not doing anything!” Wade defended himself, but he was smiling so hard he was far from sounding convincing at all.

“You’re not helping either!”

Wade noticed the way Peter’s head was following their banter back and forth as if it was a tennis match, just as he turned to face him and listen to whatever response he had prepared for his friend.

“Well, alright then. I’m gonna start doing that,” he said as he got up and closer to the sofa. “I’m taking him to his room myself to make sure he doesn’t trip and fall or tries to run away back to Queens the night before VidCon,” he proposed with a smile placing his hand on the brunet’s other shoulder.

His grin didn’t last much after Peter mumbled “I don’t like this,”

“What? _Why_?” He wondered, trying not to show the fact that it had hurt him a little.

One of Peter’s hands wrapped around Nessa’s wrist. “I like her better,”

Nessa’s stern look turned soft at the brunet’s words, and she rubbed small circles with her thumb on his shoulder as Wade’s expression turned skeptical when Peter turned to see her and he smiled timidly.

 _Oh_.

“You just do ‘cause you think you slept with her,” he pointed out. “And besides that, she’s not gonna be able to carry you. She’s drunk and she can barely stand up with those high heels she never takes off,”

When Vanessa looked at him she didn’t seem mad, but disappointed on him. “ _Rude_ ,”

“It’s the truth!” He laughed. “Look, go ahead and try to stand up. If you can do it for over six seconds, you’re free to take him yourself,” he challenged the woman, getting as a response from her nothing but a fierce look and a chin held up high before she pushed herself from the sofa and stood tall in front of him, pushing her black hair over her shoulders and pinning her eyes on his own.

Wade mentally counted back the seconds, as he held Vanessa’s stare and watched her smile confidently.

She swayed softly back into the couch after holding her pose for four entire seconds.

Just as Wade’s grin turned wider, he felt a tug on his sweater sleeve. When he looked down he saw Peter staring at him with tired eyes.

“I need my glasses,” he sighed. “I think I left them in the bedroom, can you get them for me?” He pleaded softly.

A little taken aback by how gently the boy had requested him to do so, all Wade managed to do was nod and make his way rapidly past the door that led to his room.

Turning on the lights he started dutifully looking for the boy’s glasses, opening his night stand drawers, picking up a stained shirt -probably Peter’s- that had been left over a desk and throwing himself to the floor to check under the bed.

It was then that he heard the boy’s voice coming from the living room.

“So we didn’t sleep together?”

Vanessa’s giggles were all answer he got.

* * *

 

“You know there is no need for you to carry me like this,” Peter insisted behind his back.

Wade pushed the elevator button, tightening his hold around the younger’s waist on his shoulder. “Better safe than sorry,”

“I’m not going to run off, you know? I am starting to get some things back, I just drank a little too much,” the brunet argued in his defense.

“Just stay quiet, Peter,” the older one laughed at the clear annoyance in his voice. “I’ll put you back down when we’re at your door,” he promised.

“This is _so_ embarrassing,” cried the younger one.

“Relax, it’s like six a.m.” Wade patted the back of one of his thighs with his other hand in what tried to be a reassuring gesture. “It’s not like anybody is walking around these hours, and even if somebody were, seeing you like this would still be _better_ than having them see you take three steps and fall on your face like you did back on the room,” as he finished talking, the metal doors in front of them slid open swiftly and he took a step inside.

“I don’t see how this would be any better,” Peter laughed bitterly before saying “Twelfth floor,” when he noticed Wade’s fingers hovering over another set of buttons.

“Thank you,”

“It’s okay,”

“As I was saying,” the blonde continued. “It would be better because it’s always better to see a someone helping their drunk friend than seeing someone drunk _and_ lonely,”

Peter went silent for a moment before letting go of a breath and mumbling, “I guess you have a point,”

Wade merely dedicated him a wide smile, facing the mirror inner wall beside them so that Peter could see it.

They made the rest of their way to Peter’s door in comfortable silence, save for Wade asking the number one last time just to be sure they were headed in the right direction.

It had been a fun night. A whole lot different than how he was expecting to spend it after his meeting with Stark, and maybe that’s what had made it so great.

Most of the times, Wade had learned by then, the best experiences came from the unexpected, from not making plans at all and just enjoying the moment. That was probably why no matter how many scenarios he had played in his head, he couldn’t think of any of them being by any chance better than the hours he had spent laughing and drinking with this particular person that he was carrying over his shoulder like some sort of kid.

Because he hadn’t been expecting, just like he hadn’t been expecting the brunet to be so nice and to get along with him so quickly.

Surprises were nice.

“Twelve thirty-five,” he announced as he stopped by the door and, as he had promised, bent over to help Peter climb off of him and stand on the ground. “There you go,”

“ _Finally_ ,” groaned the younger one as Wade took a step back and looked at him. “Thanks, though,”

“Eh, it’s not a big deal,” the blonde shrugged it off with a smile as he took in the image of the boy in front of him, one last time before leaving. The oversized tee clinged loosely though fitting to his wide shoulders, but the way the ‘short’ sleeves reached his elbows and the hem of it fell over his thighs made the shirt look comical on him, especially when he moved and the fabric twirled like a dress.

His skin had lost its alcohol induced red haze, making the tiny freckles sprinkled all over it entirely visible for once, and Wade noticed how they were not only on his face but also down his neck and arms.

But the one thing that caught his attention as his eyes wandered through the boy’s frame, was the way Peter had kept his glasses over his head like a headband instead of actually putting them on.

“You don’t need the glasses?” He found himself asking out loud before he could stop himself.

Peter didn’t seem to mind, and he simply kept on looking for his keycard in his pockets as he answered. “Of course I do, I’m blind as a _mole_ without them. I mean, I can see shapes and stuff, but forget about reading or recognizing people, unless they’re like this close,” he placed his palm nearly touching the tip of his nose and giggled.

It was not the answer he was expecting. “Then why weren’t you wearing them back up there?”

“I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to have them on,” Peter shrugged, finally finding the card and pulling it out. “Besides, I didn’t have to read anything and it isn’t like I _haven’t_ seen your face before,” he reasoned.

“But then how can you tell it was me all along?” Wade asked defiantly, crossing his arms over his chest as Peter swiped the card and a dim green light blinked beside the knob. He held it and opened the door just a little, but he remained where he was.

“Well, because of your _voice_ ,” he smiled. “Besides it was your hotel room. And even if I hadn’t been sure at first, if it just happened to be that someone else came in and I mistaked them for you, Vanessa would have said something,”

“How do you know that we both aren’t up to _something_ and that’s why she didn’t say anything? How do you know this isn’t some really elaborate _prank_?” He blurted out, desperately looking for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

“Well, you’re starting to freak me out a little when you put it like that,” the younger one let out a nervous chuckle. “But I guess there is one way to find out,”

A second later Peter simply pushed the frame of his glasses forward until they fell over his nose and in front of his eyes. The gesture was quick and deliberate, like ripping a band aid.

Wade had to use every ounce of his willpower not to reach out and push those glasses back _up_.

The moment Peter’s brown irises focused on him, a glint of surprise became evident in his stare and in the way his eyes opened just a tad more than a second earlier, his brows curving almost imperceptibly.

“I clearly didn’t think this through,” mumbled the taller one as he huffed a nervous laugh and ran a hand through his hair.

“ _Damn_ ,” the word rolled off his tongue barely higher than an exhale.

“I know. Heh, the scars look weirder in person, I’ve been told,” the older one made a gesture with his hand, shrugging it off, before balling both of them into fists. He smiled tightly, feeling uncomfortable as the boy refused to look away.

“ _What_? Wait, no,” Wade watched as the brunet furrowed his brow in deep confusion. “That’s not it,”

“It’s not?”

The younger one seemed to try to bite back a smile. “No. I just thought your eyes were blue,”

Wade blinked slowly as his mind made sense of the words the boy had just said. He quirked an eyebrow confusedly at Peter. “They are,” he stated.

“ _No_ , they’re not,” was the response he got from the other one as he opened his bedroom door wider and he stepped inside. “They’re grey,”

A strange calmness washed over him, and he felt himself relax, his shoulders falling down and his hands uncurling as Peter’s smile softened a little before he closed the door.

“ _Weird_ ,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * _Don't be so cruel, don't look for more excuses._  
>  _Don't be so cruel, we will always be fugitives, the two of us._
> 
> AND HERE IT IS, FINALLY, THE CROSSOVER YOU WERE ALL WAITING FOR.
> 
> I'd like to take a moment to thank [mariquita_gatanegra](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mariquita_gatanegra/pseuds/mariquita_gatanegra) for being the one who puts up with all of my rantings about the story and for being all in all an amazing person who writes incredible stories as well, and she might be a ball of stress and glitter sometimes but she's my ball of stress and glitter.
> 
> And I also want to thank ALL of you who read, bookmarked, commented and left kudos in this story, and all of those who reached out to me on [tumblr](http://happy-little-ghost.tumblr.com) because seriously guys, you give me strenght to keep writting this. I never would have thought I'd get such a positive response to this story, nor that I'd get this far.
> 
> Although, you should know (spoiler alert:) this is just the begining.
> 
> Oh and in case anybody is wondering which song is the one Wade is singing, it's [this one.](https://youtu.be/autKUnOslqA)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conversations between everybody's faves-

Peter was no stranger to the experience of waking up hungover in a bed that wasn’t his. Nor he was to waking up in the same condition in someone else’s clothes either.  
  
That did not mean that his first coherent thought wasn’t ‘shit’ when he met his reflection blinking back at him in that tiny mirror above the sink of his bathroom, feeling his head pounding as he flipped the switch and the light hit his eyes too bright for his liking, and he noticed the large red piece of clothing hanging onto his shoulders with a stamp that read “Every Word Means Fuck in Some Language or Another” in black bold letters.   
  
“Oh fuck me, not again,”   


* * *

  
  
Everything was too loud, he thought, clutching his water bottle tightly as he gulped its contents down while he made his way through the busy dining hall where breakfast was being served.   
  
The room was overflowing with people talking and laughing in small groups in their tables -some of them signalized as reserved for VidCon Guests-, chairs being dragged as some sat up to get themselves another serving or some napkins after having spilled their orange juice on the tablecloth, cutlery clinked against tableware as it was used, all of this while soft ambient music blasted through some speakers placed strategically all over the hall.   
  
Peter propped himself on a chair in front of a table set in the back of the room, the only one somewhat far from all of that rowdy nonsense that he probably could have contributed and stood perfectly had he been feeling better, and he let his head drop over the polka dot patterned cloth gracelessly, behind his crossed arms in an attempt to block out the noise at least a little.   
  
His stomach growled for what felt like the uptenth time that morning and he groaned at the thought of having to move back again, knowing fully well that getting himself something to eat would be the only way to get himself out of that dreadful state.   
  
Hangovers sucked.   
  
“Rise and shine, Pipsqueak,” came a soft spoken voice from behind him, just as a hand was placed on his shoulder and shook him lightly a moment later, while he was still debating on wether or not it was worth it to stay in that same position until the dining hall cleared out some and his sensitivity overload didn’t kill him.   
  
Sighing, he forced himself to look up and to his left, meeting a lopsided smirk and long black waves falling over the table, familiar eyes hidden behind a large pair of aviator sunglasses yet visible from up close.   
  
“Hey, Ness,” he muttered, barely audible, before resuming his previous position and groaning once more   
  
“Tough night?” The woman asked amusedly, walking around the table and pulling one of the chairs set in front of him.   
  
“I can’t even remember getting back to my room, so figures,” commented the boy, shrugging one of his shoulders without looking up. “How was it for you?”   
  
“Well, I slept like a baby on Wade’s bed while he stayed on the couch, so there’s that,” she said nonchalantly. Peter hummed a small laugh when he noticed the triumphant tone in her voice. “Hangover wise, I’ve had worse,”   
  
“What about the sunglasses?”   
  
“Purely for aesthetic purposes,” she replied without skipping a beat. Peter heard a distinctive noise of metal against metal, and soon enough something was being pressed against his forearm. He glanced up for a second and he saw Vanessa holding the shades to him before she spoke again. “I take you need them more than I do right now,”   
  
“Thanks,” he gave her a small smile before taking them from her ring filled fingers and putting them on, feeling his strained eyes relax under the protection of a dark filter set over the images laid out in front of him. He took a deep breath as he sat upright, trying to ignore his surroundings by focusing on Vanessa, taking in her diverted stare  and her soft features accentuated strategically thanks to her light make up, the way silver threads in her sweater glinted under the lamp lights, visible under her open jacket, and how a beauty mark adorned her right cheek right under her eye adorably. “How do I look?”   
  
“Like shit, but at least in a punk-rock kind of way now,” the woman laughed and Peter merely rolled his eyes in response.   
  
“I admit I might have outdone myself last night-” he started but he was quickly cut off by his companion.   
  
“Oh, you ‘ _might_ ’ have?”   
  
“But,” he continued. “I don’t think I look that bad,”   
  
Nessa chuckled as she pulled out her phone from her jacket. “Sure, say ‘ _I love rock and roll_ ’,” she instructed, setting her phone in front of her face, facing her camera towards him.   
  
“Eff you,” was all he said in return, sticking his tongue out before he heard the snap, partially thankful that she hadn’t turn on the flash for the picture.   
  
She smiled at the device before setting it on the table and messing with it, likely uploading the picture he had just taken to Instagram. Peter just shook his head.   
  
“Hey Pipsqueak, I know I said Wade was going to have breakfast with us,” she stated just a second later, taking her eyes from the screen and catching Peter’s attention. “But he had to run like two hours after he got back to his room. He woke me up like at eight to tell me that Stark had called, and he had to go to the center to help set up some stuff for his panel. So, Knucklehead won’t be joining us, but he says ‘hi’,”   
  
“Oh, okay,” Peter furrowed his brow, confused. He didn’t remember her saying anything about having breakfast with the guy the night before. In fact, he couldn’t remember much past staying up for hours, drinking, talking and playing that silly game with Vanessa while they waited for Wade to get to his room, something he never did.   
  
At least not while he had been there. He figured he had gotten tired of waiting and left, after all, he never had much patience when he got wasted.   
  
But he decided not to pry with details about what had happened while he was still with Vanessa. He was more preoccupied with whatever events had happened within the moment after he had abandoned the blond’s room and until he had gotten to his, events his mind drew a blank to him when he wondered about them and it annoyed him terribly. He was way more worried over figuring out how, why and with whom he had gotten back there, than whatever promises Vanessa had made to him when he felt let down.   
  
Peter’s eyes wandered for a moment through the the faces sat on tables and carrying plates and leaving the room, his mind racing as an idea struck him suddenly and it was that maybe, just maybe, whoever stranger he had slept with the night before, was likely in that very room.   
  
The worst part about the whole deal was how clueless he felt as for not having the faintest idea of how did the stranger looked like. Although he could have easily assumed whoever the t-shirt he had woke up wearing belonged to was a guy at least two sizes bigger than him, he wasn’t ignoring the fact that even he wore oversized clothes on the regular and that it could have belonged to a girl as well despite whatever the label indicated; after all, didn’t Gwen use to buy most of her clothes from the men's section because they were comfier and cheaper?   
  
Peter cursed his sexuality and the fact that it wouldn’t allow him to narrow down the search to at least a fraction of the world’s population based solely on their gender.   
  
To top it all, he knew exactly where the quote was from. If it had been from a particular fandom, perhaps it could have been helpful. But no, it belonged to no other than Wade Wilson himself; the one youtuber everybody, especially those attending Vidcon, knew about.   
  
It could be literally anyone.   
  
“Something wrong, Pipsqueak?” He turned to meet Vanessa’s questioning stare a little too fast, and his head buzzed as a small wave of pain struck him, causing him to shut his eyes tightly. “I mean, besides the obvious?”   
  
The brunet let out a sigh, rubbing his temples with his fingers trying to ease some of the pounding. “I just need to eat, my head is killing me,” he mumbled, giving her a tight smile. “Can you get me something? If I have to go back through that mess I’m gonna get an aneurism for sure,” he laughed.   
  
“Yeah. Sure, Pipsqueak,” he saw Vanessa bite the inside of her cheek before she got up.   
  
“Spidey,” he said, looking straight at her as she walked a couple of steps beside him.   
  
Vanessa arched an eyebrow. “What?”   
  
“That’s how my friends call me. _Spidey_ ,” he explained, shrugging.   
  
Vanessa huffed a laugh. “I like Pipsqueak better,” she replied before turning around and heading back to the buffet table. “You owe me one!”   
  
Peter laughed as well before dropping his head back over the cloth and reaching out blindly to his bottle, looking for something to hold onto as he felt his head pounding when a group of twenty year olds approached to sit in a table close to his own, one of them yelling at two others about a buzzfeed article they had just read about slushies.   


* * *

  
  
Vans started rolling in front of the hotel around one thirty to pick up people headed towards the Moscone Convention Center, all of them bearing a distinctive Stark Industries trademark logo.   
  
The event didn’t start until three, yet most people had been required to be there half an hour earlier at the very least, especially those who did a panel on the first day. Peter’s panel wasn’t until the last one, so he could have easily hopped on the last bunch of vans that would get him there early anyway; but Vanessa insisted on them queueing by the doors to try to get inside one at least around two and be on the center as early as possible.   
  
“Again, why are we standing out here in the cold when we could be inside for another hour?” Had asked the brunet, zipping up his jacket and tucking his hands in his jean pockets; checking once again if the long line of strangers ahead of them had moved just to realize that, just like when he had verified five minutes prior, it hadn’t.   
  
“I told you, I want to try to find Wade and say hi before his panel starts. Besides, I want to introduce you to some other people.” Vanessa rolled her eyes behind the shades she had recovered minutes ago at his impatience, an amused smirk playing on her lips. “Not that I don’t love the whole lost-puppy-following-me-everywhere thing we have going on, but you’re gonna need some other people to turn to in case you actually get lost. Also, it’s not even that cold, don’t be a pussy,”   
  
“You know I’m a grown up man, don’t you?” Questioned Peter in annoyance.   
  
Nessa snorted. “Of course, Pipsqueak. But you do realize I’m the only person you’ve talked to since JFK, right?”   
  
“Touché,” Peter shrugged. It hadn’t bothered him, in all seriousness. He had always much preferred the company of few, or being alone for that matter, over having to interact with way too many people. Vanessa’s company was pleasant and anyway, even though he had never considered himself as an introvert or anti-social, he had never been much the kind of guy to walk straight up to strangers and strike a conversation out of the blue. At least not while being sober.   
  
He swallowed hard at that last thought, forcing himself back in the moment.   
  
His companion had a point nonetheless, and as much as he wanted to and easily could have argued that if it was a matter of her not wanting to deal with him the whole day -like the day before- he could easily leave her alone and find his way to Vidcon on his own; he settled for rolling with her.   
  
Besides, it could be useful. He still had to meet Wade yet, and maybe he could take it as some sort of practice. A one-oh-one on human interaction with people he barely knew from having seen on the internet yet never having talked to them. Yes, that was it. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that even though he had already drowned down three more water bottles and eaten enough food to feed a small army his head was still killing him and he was hearing a distant ringing in his ears.   
  
A small voice in his head reminded him that technically, he had talked to the guy before.   
  
“Are all of them as ‘charming’ as you?” He asked mockingly.   
  
Nessa pushed him by the shoulder lightly, one of her penciled brows quirking upwards. “You could say some of them are _devastatingly_ charming in comparison,”   
  
“Oh God,” the boy groaned, throwing his head back in desperation, yet a smile pulled on the corners of his mouth. “Just my luck, isn’t it?”   
  
When his eyes met Vanessa, her lips were twisted in a failed attempt to hold back a laugh. His grin turned wider, and she only pushed him again in response, harder than the last time, but soft enough to remain playful.   


* * *

  
  
“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me,” mumbled the woman beside him, typing in furiously to a text she had just received.   
  
“What is it?” Peter turned to face her after taking a step outside of the van, offering his hand politely to help her get out as well as she wasn’t looking away from the screen. He dropped it as Vanessa merely stepped down without even sparing him a glance to acknowledge his offer, stepping gracefully on her six inch heels and walking a couple of steps past him on the sidewalk, following briefly the current of passengers that had traveled with them and headed towards the entrance doors of the center; a deep frown scarring her features. “Nessa?” he insisted as she gave him no response.   
  
“Wait just a second, Bambi,” she commanded, holding up her index finger at him and keeping her eyes fixated on her screen, dark brown pupils scanning fast through a text Peter couldn't see and mouthing quietly as she read. Peter’s eyebrows rose at the new nickname, but he refrained from saying anything, knowing he likely wouldn’t get any explanation right away.   
  
After a moment she let out a sigh and pocketed the device once again inside her jeans, breathing out a curse.   
  
“Bad news?” inquired the boy, still staring at her.   
  
“Only for you,” his companion responded, smiling quite bitterly. “That was Goldylocks. Seems like we made it on time before his panel but it’s too late to catch him alone. Management is keeping him under lock or something to get the final details done and they won’t let him go until after his little show. Seems like we missed our chance, and by _we_ I mean _you_ ,” Vanessa shrugged and gave him an apologetic look as she crossed her arms, a gesture that clearly resembled resignation. “Sorry, Pipsqueak,”   
  
Peter was still trying to process how this woman had showed up in his way so suddenly and, as fast as she had arrived, she had grown so quickly fond of him for no particular reason. He was still trying to figure out the reasons behind whatever act she seemed to be putting out for him, yet all he could see in her eyes as she spoke to him were either honesty or amusement.   
  
Vanessa was dazzling in her very own way, confident and decided, it had took her less than twenty minutes to get comfortable with him after they had first met, and since that moment she had been nothing but friendly and helpful to him. Peter had been surprised that she had been so keen on staying beside him for as long as he needed, and that not even once -at least until they had been waiting for the vans to pick them up- she had suggested on them parting ways.   
  
Vanessa had set herself the mission of being the friend Peter knew he had desperately needed as he was thrown in this completely alien experience, but he refused to admit; and she had nailed every single aspect of that task.   
  
From keeping him company in the airport, to switching seats to stay with him during the flight and keeping him distracted so that he wouldn’t burst into some panic attack mid take off, to filling him in with some of the details of the convention only those who attended as panelist knew about -such as rules regarding attendance, or about the annual last day party that always took place at Wade’s hotel room (and that it was a tradition she had started in the first place)-, to sharing a cab with him and to even suggesting a silly but completely plausible plan to meet the Wade -even if it had been a total failure-; Vanessa had played her part with a smile on her face (whether it was a kind or a malicious one) and for that he couldn’t help himself from feeling so undoubtedly grateful.   
  
He could only imagine what it would be like being actually good friends with this woman, and not just a lucky stranger she quickly took a liking on.   
  
Peter smiled easily at her in an attempt to comfort her some, stepping closer to her and placing his hand on her shoulder. “Come on, it’s not the worst thing to ever happen to me,” he laughed. “We can still get him later, and you still have to introduce me to this clique of yours,”   
  
Nessa’s mouth quirked into a small smirk at his words, and she rolled her eyes as she admitted “It’s not a clique, we don’t have a clique. Most of these guys aren’t really friends of mine, besides the Shadies. I just happen to know a bunch of them because of these events and I’m pretty sure you’d get along with most,”   
  
“What makes you think that?” the brunet inquired, amused by Vanessa’s statement.   
  
“You just look like that kind of guy,” she explained, a soft expression in her eyes as she contemplated him for a second.   
  
Peter made a face. “Sure, that makes so much sense. Just throw the guy you called _Bambi_ to the wolves, he’s totally gonna be alright,”  
  
“Oh come on, they aren’t wolves,” the woman laughed, shrugging off Peter’s hand and continuing to grin at him, like somehow it would magically wipe off his skepticism. “It’s not my fault you look just like that little deer that made all of our childhoods magical,”   
  
Peter rolled his eyes at that, keeping quiet for a moment, simply contemplating Vanessa in all her giggling glory exasperatedly, before he opened his mouth once again. “First of all, Bambi was a stag,”   
  
Vanessa snorted and Peter could only flash a smile at her before he dropped the act and kept going, taking a step in the direction their group had disappeared earlier, followed by Vanessa almost instantly.   
  
“Second of all, I think I’m a little more worried about whoever you referred to as “ _Shadies_ ” over the wolves,” the brunet commented.   
  
“You should be,” was all the response he got from the woman towering beside him, as the front doors slid open in front of them, letting out a rush of cold air and the rumble of loud chattering and music blasting through speakers at full volume from the inside.   
  
Peter could hardly do anything but clenching his teeth when he felt his head buzz again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO GUYS!!! FEELS GOOD TO BE BACK!!
> 
> I'm sorry that this chapter is mostly a filler and not nearly as long as the last one but, worry not! The next one is coming real soon to you and it's gonna be way more intesting.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience, your nice comments and for reaching out to me on [tumblr](http://happy-little-ghost.tumblr.com)these past couple of weeks, which have been pretty damn stressful to me to say the least. You guys keep me going, I swear.
> 
> Happy late holidays!! Let's aim or the best this year.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A walk around and a surprise.

Peter had been lucky enough during his teenage years to have his aunt save up money for one of his birthdays and buy him a ticket to Comic Con.

Gwen had tagged along, and even though the place had been extremely crowded, people got lost constantly, and the fact that they had ran into some rather weird people whose devotion to stay in character with whoever they were cosplaying was borderline bizarre; it had been a pleasant experience.

There was something so strangely unique and remarkably astonishing about these sort of events for Peter. He had felt marveled when he noticed the communion that characterized them, the way it brought different people together solely on the basis of enjoying something that could be considered as art, if one decided to look closely; and the way it could make someone feel so undoubtedly at home and so far away at the same time.

Almost like a concert, except for how they lacked of that thrilling moment in which the lights came up and the drum beat kicked in, slightly off sync for just a second before one’s heart catched up.

So it was fair to say that he had a little experience, in the sense that he had attended to at least one convention before VidCon.

That did not mean, however, that he was anywhere near prepared for what awaited him pass those sliding doors.

Things had gotten weird from the moment Nessa guided them to the table where they were supposed to get their passes, when, as they waited to get the small plastic IDs that identified them not only as attendants but as invited speakers and that they were supposed to carry on their necks at all times to help others differentiate them from any lookalikes or fans cosplaying them quite successfully, people started approaching them one by one and then in small groups as they recognized them.

Peter had been expecting Vanessa being bombarded with questions from girls and boys who admired her makeup skills -after all, even if he hadn’t realized who she was at first, it wasn’t as if he had never heard of her, Gwen had been a diehard fan of her channel even when she still did normal makeup tutorials-, but he hadn’t thought he’d be personally addressed without being introduced first.

So it was quite a surprise when multiple individuals started asking him, of all people, for pictures or striked a small conversation with him introducing themselves as fans of his work, complimenting him on his looks and asking him questions out of a vast range of topics, going from which was his favorite music genre to listen to and play, to deeper ones such as what had moved him to become a musician, to meaningless personal details such as his favorite color.

It was even weirder to him that it had happened not only then, but also afterwards as they started making their way into several rooms of the convention center, towards a destination that Vanessa had decided to hide from Peter under the excuse that ‘it would ruin the surprise’; causing them to constantly stop on their tracks even when they had barely walked from one place to the other, delaying their arrival.

Peter tried his best to answer and keep up the chattering without dragging it out for too long, remembering the conversation he had had with Miles back in his home and quickly checking on Vanessa, who observed the exchanges amusedly when she wasn’t being kept busy herself with her own admirers or checking her phone (which suspiciously kept on beeping every five seconds), until she decided to cut in and interrupted him, explaining with a smile -one Peter could tell hid certain annoyance- that they had somewhere to be, and practically dragging him by the arm away from where they were standing.

Only then he understood Vanessa’s rush to get there early.

It had occurred to him that idea of Vanessa introducing him personally to any other youtuber at all became impossible to achieve if they were planning to do it in time to catch Wade’s opening presentation.

So Vanessa had opted for the second best option: filling him in with as much information as she could while they walked together, pointing them out if any happened to be nearby and exchanging little else than a wave and a loud greeting from the distance if they happened to notice them (her) or called Vanessa’s name.

Some of them Peter was already familiarized with, in the sense that he followed their channels and their were fairly well known in the community. Some others had taken him completely by surprise when Vanessa had referred to them.

“So, Steve Rogers,” she commented as they paced by a large group talking to a tall, wide shouldered blonde man with a shy smile. “CaptainAmerica. I take you know him,”

Peter nodded. “Everyone does. Started off traveling all over the country, now he still does it but he’s all about social justice,”

“He was always all about that, and I suspect he will always be,” Vanessa laughed. “He’s also a literal golden retriever, nicest guy you’ll ever meet unless you get on his nerves disagreeing with him on things he finds unfair. You know how Wade keeps babbling about Vidcon's new management issue?”

“Like every other youtuber invited,” Peter replied, annoyed. As if she couldn’t tell he knew exactly what she was talking about since he had suffered the consequences first handedly. “Some are okay with it, though,”

“Well, he’s on the front line of everyone who isn’t,” The woman said with a knowing smirk.“It’s been like an online Civil War going on for the last couple of weeks.”

Peter nodded. “I heard something about it. Some vloggers got boycotted and lost hundreds of followers overnight. And like, I know about a guy who got his account hacked for a week, right?”

Vanessa hummed positively. “Some weird New Age preacher called Alex. I think his channel is called ‘New Vision’ or ‘The Vision’. But that’s old news,” Nessa dismissed the explanation with a wave of her hand before giving Peter a smug look and continuing. “Rumor has it Rogers got into a fist fight with Tony Stark over the whole issue yesterday,”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up at that. “You think it actually happened?”

His companion shrugged, although a playful smile remained on her face. “If every rumor that goes around the people attending these events were true Wade would have overdosed seven times, Wade and I would be celebrating our wood weddings next June, and half of the youtubers would be actually alien lizards”

Peter let out a snort at that. “You never know, I might have shed some skin back at the hotel,”

Vanessa shook her head. “Nah, from what I’ve heard you’re actually two different people,”

“Right, my bad. I forgot to bring my evil clone,” Peter played along. “He’s back home recording the covers I’m supposed to post when I get back,”

“Oh, so the musician is the evil one?” Vanessa asked, sounding actually interested, her act only breaking due to the way the corners of her mouth were slightly pulled up. It didn’t last much anyways, since a moment later she was picking up where she had left off. “I guess we’ll have to ask Wade if Stark does indeed have a black eye, he was the last person to see him yesterday from what I know,”

Peter glanced back to get another look of the aforementioned, noticing also the brown haired man who stood beside him looking utterly bored. “What about poker face?”

Vanessa looked back as well. “That’s Bucks,”

“Yeah, I know,” the brunet cut her off before she could go on. “Captain’s buddy, everyone knows. I mean, is he as intimidating as he looks like or…?”

Vanessa snorted. “No, he’s actually really nice once you get to know him. I mean, at least that’s what Wade has told me,” she shrugged. “He freaks me out a little,”

Peter rolled his eyes at her. “Okay, who else?”

Vanessa looked around for a moment, trying to find another familiar face. It didn’t take her long, and soon after she was waving at a mature woman in stylish clothes, far too elegant in comparison with the reporter talking to her. “That’s Janet Van Dyne,”

Peter looked confused for a moment. “Henry Pym’s ex wife?”

Vanessa nodded excitedly. “She’s a legend,”

“I had never heard of her besides her and husband’s work,” admitted Peter.

The woman’s pace suddenly came to a halt as her amused features distorted into confusion and slight anger, her hold onto Peter’s arm causing him to almost trip when he had carried on walking without her. The young man spun to face her with a questioning look as she judged him silently for a moment.

“You don’t know who Wasp is?” she voiced out in an offended tone, catching the boy by surprise. “Unbelievable,” she huffed.

“Well, believe it,” blurted out the brunet, finding the way Vanessa was pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration extremely funny.

The dark haired woman drew out dramatical sigh as she averted her eyes to the ceiling, as if she had been asking some greater entity to grant her the patience she seemed to be lacking to put out with Peter’s ignorance. Her eyelids fell shut a second later as Peter didn’t even try to hold back a laugh.

“So,” she began, “you know the man who wrote a bazillion papers of research on some particles that don’t really exist and made a TV show out of it, but you don’t know the one woman who didn’t only wrote half of those papers but also became a Fashion Icon and revolutionized the world of fashion Video Blogs becoming one of the earliest youtubers to ever made a channel entirely dedicated to the coverage of fashion shows at the age of fifty?” by the time Vanessa had opened her eyes, her stare was pointedly deadly.

Peter merely shrugged, offering an innocent smile. “I knew about her work as a scientist, I never cared that much over her personal life to be honest, or Pym’s”

“You’re missing a lot of drama,” Vanessa rolled her eyes, her expression turning a bit more playful as she did so. “She’s a queen, and an honorary Shadie, so don’t mess with her, let’s leave it there. I can’t stress how painful it’d be explaining the whole deal to you considering I doubt you’ll ever care at all,” she summed up, pulling out her phone and snatching a quick glance towards it before locking arms once again with the boy in front of her and dragging him once again in the direction they had been heading to before, still talking to him as she rushed them explaining that they were already late.

Peter felt like rolling his eyes at that comment, since Vanessa had been saying so for what had felt like an hour already, and there were no clear signs anywhere around them that any presentation was about to start, no people rushing like them, nor screens flashing schedules; but refrained from doing so as his companion had resumed her previous introductions when she pointed towards two strangers within their line of vision with a nod, a young woman in a red leather jacket and an equally young man with grey hair laughing at whatever a small kid who stood in front of them had just said.

“What about the Maximoff twins? They’re one strange pair,”

Peter stared at the strangers for a moment, taking in their faces and failing at first to acknowledge Vanessa’s words putting a name to their features and recognize them, until a second later as the girl made a gesture with her hands while opening her mouth to say something and it became impossible not to recognize them.

“I know them, I’m always saying I’m gonna do one of Wanda’s quick recipes when my best friend comes over for dinner and then I never do,” he huffed out a small, embarrassed laugh. “I don’t know much about Pietro except that he’s got a couple of screws loose and that I really dig his hair. I mean, not everyone pulls off grey that good,”

When not getting an immediate response, the brunet turned his face to meet the one of the woman walking beside him, only to find her once again checking her phone.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, noticing the way her frown furrowed.

“I don’t think so, I’m just getting a hell lot of Twitter notifications that I really don’t feel like checking right now,” Vanessa was quick to lock the device and shove it in her pocket once again, just like every single time before, as she turned back to Peter with a soft smile. “So have you ever tried?” she asked nonchalantly a split second later.

“Huh?”

The woman giggled at Peter’s confused reply. “Dying your hair grey?” she clarified sounding just the tiniest bit teasing.

“Oh,” Peter let out a breath that could have almost been a snort. “No, but I did get my hair dyed pink because I lost a bet once,”

Vanessa’s laugh boomed through the room, loud enough that a couple of people close to them turned their heads to look at them with both annoyed stares and curious eyes.

* * *

 

Peter wasn’t sure exactly when or where they had taken a turn or walked past a wrong door, but he was positively sure they were lost.

“We’re not lost,”

The dark haired woman leading him through the seemingly endless corridor wasn’t one to give up so easily.

“And how come you’re so certain about it?” sighed the brunet, pushing his pace to get beside her once again after trying -and failing miserably- to hold her back by standing in place. “How can you be sure this is a shortcut to the main auditorium? It’s not like you’ve been here before,”

A soft laugh escaped from Vanessa’s lips as she side eyed his companion, and her answer was left on pause for a mere second when something else caught her eye, something Peter didn’t miss.

Just about twenty feet ahead, a single blue light bulb turned on over an otherwise unmarked and ordinary silver door, much like the multiple ones they had walked past the moment they had stepped in that strange and monotone hallway.

“I never said I was taking you there,”

Peter’s face contorted into a worried grimace, confused at the words and the sudden careless attitude of the woman dragging him by his arm once again.

“Wait, what?”

“Come on,”

“I thought you didn’t want us to miss the panel,” he tried, watching Vanessa step in front of the door and knock in a hurried manner.

And without stopping said knocking, there it was, another eyeroll. “We’re not going to, Spidey,”

That didn’t seem to be enough assure him the slightest bit. In fact, it only annoyed him. Further than the fact the woman had had him walking apparently in circles. “Then what the actual _fuck_ are we doing here? Wherever the hell here is, anyway,” he shook himself off the woman’s grip and crossed his arms defensively.

That did seem to be enough to bring Vanessa’s insistence on the door, causing her to turn to face him with eyes wide open and a laugh about to burst.

“Holy shit, pipsqueak can sw-”

Whatever she was about to say, she was promptly cut off by a third voice materializing as the door in front of them opened and a shaggy blond head popped out.

“Jesus Christ, it’s you. Wait, what are you doing here?” his voice was hoarse and dry, reminiscent of a sore throat from cold that still hadn’t completely left him. A moment later, Peter noticed the way his dark brown eyes fixed on him with a puzzled expression, as if the man was trying to figure out if he was really there, “Who is this guy?”

“Get with the program Bob,” the woman spoke as she pushed the door open to make her way into a room the brunet noticed was filled with some screens, a couple of microphones and several sound boards, and a window with an inside view of a fully stacked auditorium. “That’s Peter, and we’re here to fuck up Wade’s panel,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally have no excuse.  
> I’ll pick it up again. Sorry.  
> For what it’s worth, all of your coments made me come back again and again, and here I am. So, thank you guys.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Love Stories From Cafe Araña](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9185237) by [mariquita_gatanegra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariquita_gatanegra/pseuds/mariquita_gatanegra)




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